Resolutions of the Heart
by resauthor
Summary: A special New Year's Eve party with an unexpected cast of characters and a romantic surprise. In the Classic Moments timeline, this falls after Party Favors and before Shadows of Remembrance. Some adult content.


**Author's notes**: The story below is a romance with a crime thrown in there for plot purposes. On the Classic Moments timeline, this story falls after _The Dare _and before _Into The Mouth of the Wolf _(see profile page). I'm confessing upfront about the whiplash point-of-view in the party scene. It is out of control. In future we'll just call this "Party Format" (thank you J!). Basically, the story (like Party Favors) turns into another free-for-all! And even if I were capable of fixing it, I was instructed to leave it as is. Do not edit, do not touch! Seriously. Practically had to sign a blood oath (I'm looking at you, D!). Usual heads up regarding canon – it is nowhere to be found. Last I heard, it had been sedated, forcibly bound and loaded onto a helicopter. Destination drop: 100 miles NE of the island of Hawai'i in the Pacific Ocean _\- laki maikaʻi ma waho._

**Adult content warning** – there is some! I don't consider it gratuitous and I strive to keep it tasteful. It happens for a reason. Chris and Rita are in love and they like to touch each other. A lot. If this type of thing upsets you – there are wonderful Silk fanfic authors on this site who do not write intimate details. I am sure they would appreciate you checking out their work if you haven't already. If you enjoy this or any other story I have written, feedback by PM or review is always appreciated. Even if it's just to tell me to stop posting! (don't worry, I'm going to eventually run out of stories anyway!) You'd be surprised how happy it makes a writer to hear from readers. Keeps the creative juices flowing. That being said… here we go with another one.

**RESOLUTIONS OF THE HEART**

by: resauthor

Officer Jim Carson walked into the Homicide Division of the Palm Beach Police Department and paused just inside the doorway. He looked around nervously. Sgt. Lorenzo had to be around here somewhere. The most expedient thing to do would be to give the envelope in his hand to Sgt. Lance, but he hesitated, too shy to speak to her.

The rookie officer had graduated from the police academy less than a month earlier and this job at the PBPD was extremely important to him. It was his life's ambition to eventually work in this very department. In fact, the detective team of Lance and Lorenzo were his idols, for lack of a better term. Their having achieved the status of Homicide Detectives at a young age gave him hope as far as his own career was concerned.

The one thing he hadn't counted on when he first started working here was the crush he seemed to be developing on Sgt. Lance. It was out of his control. Each encounter with her left him staring after her like a schoolboy and in danger of acting like an idiot. He hadn't run into her on too many occasions, but whenever those intelligent green eyes looked his way, he could feel himself tense up. His tongue would become thick and dry, and he found himself struggling to answer even the simplest of questions. All in all, it was very embarrassing.

"Is there a problem, Officer?"

The inquiring voice startled Jim and he turned to see Captain Harry Lipschitz standing behind him. Just great. Nothing like humiliating yourself in front of the higher-ups during your first month on the job. Clearing his throat nervously, he tried to explain himself.

"No, Sir. No problem here. I'm just looking for Sgt. Lorenzo. I have an envelope for him."

"I think you'll find him downstairs in records right now." The captain smiled sympathetically at the young man. "Why don't you just leave it with Sgt. Lance? She'll get it to him."

"No way!" Jim blurted out before he could stop himself. Turning red, he hastily added, "I mean, I can't do that, Captain. I was instructed to hand these to Sgt. Lorenzo. I'll go check down in records." Forcing himself to move, he rushed back out through the swinging doors, just missing the puzzled look on the Captain's face.

Luckily for him, the man he was looking for was approaching from the other end of the hallway. "Sgt. Lorenzo!" he called out, quickening his steps. It was much easier to talk to this half of the popular detective team. "I have your tickets, Sergeant."

"Thank you," Chris answered with a smile. "Carson, isn't it?" he commented, accepting the small white envelope. He opened it to check the contents.

"Yes, Sir."

"Will you be attending Wednesday night's festivities, Carson?"

"I'm not sure, Sir. I've heard it's a very formal affair."

"This is the one event every year where Palm Beach has to share the floor with West Palm Beach. We need your support, Carson. They out-number us six to one." Chris leaned closer to the uniformed officer and dropped his voice down to a conspiratorial whisper, "I know tuxedos are a royal pain, but let me assure you, the women love it." He grinned as he watched the young rookie absorb this information with a serious look on his face. "Thanks for getting these to me." Chris tapped the younger man on the shoulder with the envelope and continued on his way to the homicide department.

"You're sure about this, Sergeant?" Jim called after him. It suddenly occurred to him that there might be a few important lessons to be learned from the infamous Chris Lorenzo. Some of his rookie exploits were still being talked about at the academy.

Chris pushed open the swinging door with one hand as he looked back over his shoulder. "I'll be there with the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm, you can trust me on this, Carson. I know what I'm talking about." With a wink and a nod, he disappeared, leaving a very thoughtful young man behind.

….

Chris quickly forgot all about Carson as he went in search of his partner. He didn't have to look far. Rita was at her desk, on the phone. She was deep in conversation and didn't look up as he dropped into his chair.

"I won't hear of it." Rita's tone was pleasant, her body language relaxed. Whatever was said in response, she was quick to add, "Don't worry, he still has his own place."

He waited for her to notice him, which she did almost right away. Her eyes, warmed by the smile she sent his way, locked onto his. He opened the envelope and held up the tickets for her to see.

Her smile widened as she continued her discussion with the caller, "Stop it. You won't be intruding on our time together. We aren't attached at the hip. I'm sure we'll survive. In fact, it would probably do us good. Things have been pretty intense lately."

_"Ooooh, intense, huh?"_

Chris laughed. He hadn't been paying too much attention to what was being said, but he now knew she was talking to Diana. Diana's squeal of approval could be heard from across the desk.

"It won't be too much trouble. It's already settled. I've missed you too," Rita assured her friend before hanging up the phone. Her green eyes sparkled with happiness as she informed Chris, "That was Diana."

"I figured. What's up?" he asked. He settled back in his chair and propped one foot up on the bottom desk drawer. "Is she coming with David on Wednesday?" Rita's mood was contagious and he found himself grinning for no particular reason.

"Actually, she'll be here this evening and I've asked her to stay at my place for a few nights."

That got his attention. "Why isn't she staying at the hotel with David?"

Rita tried not to laugh at his outraged expression. "David won't be arriving until a few hours before the Gala. Diana has a chance to use up the last of her vacation days for the year, so she decided to come up early." She paused, waiting for some response from Chris, but he just kept frowning at her. "She's one of my best friends. You know we always stay with each other when we visit. It's just until David gets here on Wednesday."

"But this is so last minute, and things are different now."

"How?"

"What do you mean, how?" He sat up straight in his chair, both feet back on the ground as he leaned across his desk "We're together," he whispered. "How can I spend the night if Diana is there?"

"It's simple," Rita whispered back, "you can't." That didn't come out exactly the way she wanted it to, but the Captain had just stuck his head out of his office, and she knew she didn't have time to explain it to him delicately. "It's only for a few days, Chris," she assured him in a rushed whisper. "It might do us some good." That didn't exactly come out the right way either.

Captain Lipschitz motioned them over. "Lance, Lorenzo - in my office."

Chris stood up and waited for Rita. She was still smiling, a fact that wasn't lost on him.

"Three days?" he questioned again in disbelief.

"Two nights," she corrected. "Trust me. It will fly by."

"I doubt that," he mumbled as she led the way into the Captain's office.

"Sit down. Sit down," Harry instructed quickly. "We just received a call downstairs about a body discovered in a vacant building down in the warehouse district." He passed the detectives a handwritten report from dispatch. "I want you two to get over there right away."

Chris' eyes widened as he read the name of the victim. "Is this who I think it is?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "I'm afraid so. Even though Cynthia Weston dropped out of the movie business a few years ago, she's been very active in politics around here, as you well know. She was found by a security guard just a few minutes ago." He sighed and shook his head softly as he continued, "The media is going to have a field day, so let's treat this one with kid gloves. We can't afford any screw-ups."

Both detectives stood up to leave.

"No problem, Cap," Rita assured her boss. "We'll let you know what we find." She was the first one out the door.

"Chris," Harry called out before Chris could follow his partner. "There was a rookie up here earlier looking for you. Did he happen to catch you?"

"Yeah, he just wanted to give me the tickets for Wednesday night. You and Frannie are going, aren't you?"

"Of course, Lorenzo! We haven't missed one yet."

Harry could tell Chris was anxious to leave. There was a crime scene to check out and important work to be done, but he just couldn't resist asking, "So, who are you taking this year? I haven't heard you talk about anyone special lately."

Caught off guard by the question, a myriad of expressions passed over Chris' face. Harry struggled to keep from laughing out loud.

"I, uh..."

"Are you going stag this year?" he prodded, waiting for an answer. There was no way the situation between Lance and Lorenzo could go on as it was for much longer and he was determined to enjoy a little good-natured teasing.

"Yes, I mean - no." Chris looked away for a moment, unable to meet the Captain's eyes as he tried to avoid telling someone he respected an out and out lie. He settled for a half-truth. "Rita and I decided to go together this year. Neither one of us is seeing anyone else right now."

Walking up to the young detective, Harry slapped him on the back affectionately. "Great idea! It should be a lot of fun." He followed Chris out the office door and called out to both partners as he passed by their desks, "I want a preliminary report on my desk as soon as possible on this one."

Chris continued staring after the Captain as his boss crossed the office space and disappeared into the interrogation room hallway.

Rita straightened the files on her desk and reached for her purse. "Ready, Chris?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." He followed her as she led the way out of the building.

Neither one said much, both lost in their own thoughts as Chris drove them to the crime scene. They were stopped at a red light when Rita ended the comfortable silence.

"What did the Captain want?" she asked. Her partner looked confused. "Back in his office right before we left."

Chris shot her a quick glance before answering. "He wanted to know who my date was on Wednesday night."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him we were going together this year."

"And he didn't question that?"

"No," Chris admitted, "and I've been thinking about that little scene ever since. Something about it keeps nagging at me. It's not like Cap to let that type of information go by without commenting on it."

"That is strange. Should we be worried?"

"No, if Cap thought there was anything physical going on between us, we'd be in his office right now listening to a lecture on the rules."

"True. He'll be there on Wednesday with Frannie, won't he?"

"Oh, yeah, they will be there." Keeping his eyes on the traffic in front of them, he pulled the white envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to his partner. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her pull out the tickets.

Smiling, Rita read aloud, "35th Annual Palm Beach Police and Fire New Year's Charity Gala."

"That's certainly a mouth full," Chris commented. "Did Diana get her tickets already?" He frowned, thinking about their friend's pending visit. As much as he enjoyed seeing Diana and her current boyfriend, David, he wasn't looking forward to being separated from Rita for two nights in a row.

"David was in town on business last week, so he picked them up. I think they're getting pretty serious about each other."

"They must be if he's willing to spend a hundred dollars per ticket and put on a tux for her." Chris grimaced as if appalled by such a sacrifice. He was actually looking forward to the evening more than he ever had in past years. Held in the ballroom of one of the largest hotels in Palm Beach, it would be a relaxed night spent in the company of friends and most importantly, with the woman he loved in his arms. It was the perfect way to ring in the new year.

"I haven't heard any complaints out of you," Rita teased. "I remember a time when you'd work a double shift just to avoid these formal affairs."

"That was then. Things are different now."

"Why do I keep hearing that phrase lately?"

Chris threw her a sly grin as he pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned building.

"That's because everything is different now. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

Before she could comment, Chris opened the driver's side door and stepped out. Both detectives slipped right back into professional mode as they left the privacy of their vehicle. They crossed the police barrier and went in search of the medical examiner and the body of Cynthia Weston, former movie star and political activist.

….

Later that night at the loft, Chris grabbed a cold beer out of the refrigerator and went to sit on the couch. He could have been out having dinner with Rita and Diana tonight. Rita had asked him to join them, but he had refused, not wanting to intrude on their time together as they caught up on each other's lives after so many months. He had eaten soup from a can instead and pretended to enjoy it. He could have easily headed to the basketball court and caught a late pick-up game, but he had nixed that idea also. The next few days were bound to be hectic ones with a new high-profile case to be worked and a New Year's Eve party approaching fast.

Settling back, he made himself comfortable and switched on the nightly news. Footage from the Weston crime scene was already playing on all the major networks. The Captain had been right, they were certainly going to be under the watchful eye of the press on this one. One of the local stations had even managed to film the body as it lay covered on the concrete floor of the old abandoned warehouse. He leaned forward to get a better look as he spotted his partner in the background of one shot. His own image had just appeared on the screen next to hers when his phone rang.

He reached for the portable. "Lorenzo."

"Christopher?"

Chris sighed deeply and paused before responding. Just when he thought the evening couldn't possibly get any more frustrating.

"Christopher, are you there?"

"Yes, Mother, I'm here. I'm just surprised to hear from you. It's been almost a year."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. I was in France filming a movie for a few months and then it was off to Wales where I did a four-part miniseries for the BBC. It was broadcast here in the states last month. Maybe you saw it?"

Chris rolled his eyes. Some things never changed. "I must have missed it," he informed her flatly. He hesitated to be blunt, but he knew her too well. "Was there something you wanted?" he asked.

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone line.

"I guess I deserve this attitude, Chris, but I just heard about Cynthia Weston, and I was wondering if your department was handling the investigation."

Chris didn't answer for a minute, not sure where she was going with this. "As a matter of fact, Rita and I have been assigned to the case," he admitted hesitantly. He should have known that she wouldn't be calling just to say hello. "Did you know Cynthia Weston?"

"I need to talk to you, Chris."

"You are talking to me, Mother," Chris reminded her, annoyed at her secretive behavior. He was tired, lonely, and becoming more irritated by the minute.

"In person."

"You know where to find me."

"I'll try and get there in the next few days. I'm not sure of my schedule yet."

Chris sighed. She was still the center of her own universe and expected everyone and everything to revolve around her. He was no longer interested.

"Can't we just do this over the phone, Mother? I have a very busy schedule myself right now."

"I need to talk to you about Cynthia, but I also want to see you," Anna explained impatiently. "Can't you try and understand that?" Softening her tone, she tried to reach out to him. "How is Jillian? Did you two have a nice Christmas?"

"I'm sure she's fine, Mother, but I'm not in a position to know. She moved out of state last year."

"Why did you break up with her? I liked Jillian, and I was really hoping that you two had a future together." Anna's voice reflected her disappointment at the news.

"I'd rather not go into it right now. Let's just say she received a job offer in Boston and decided she couldn't turn it down."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Anna murmured quietly, before changing the subject again. "Did you get my Christmas card?"

"Yes, I did. I would have sent you one in return, but I didn't know where to send it." His voice wasn't accusatory, just disinterested.

"Well, I'll call you when I get into town."

"You do that." Chris hung up the phone after muttering a brief goodbye. He quickly polished off the remainder of his beer and was just putting the bottle down when the phone rang again.

"What did you forget?" he asked impatiently, assuming it was his mother again.

"I forgot to say goodnight," a liltingly familiar voice brought an affectionate smile to his lips and a warmth to his gaze. "What's wrong?" Rita asked with concern.

"You're not here."

"And?"

"And I just talked to my mother," Chris admitted with a grimace.

Rita may not have been able to see his reaction, but she sensed it.

"How was dinner?" Chris asked before she could comment.

"It was nice, but we missed you. You should have come with us."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

….

Rita moved into a more comfortable position, leaning against the arm of the couch with the phone in the crook of her neck. She curled her stocking clad feet up under her. Diana was upstairs getting ready for bed, and she had a few minutes of privacy to talk to Chris. "Are you okay?" She was well aware of how many months it had been since he had last talked to Anna. Any attempts on his part to contact her were futile because she traveled so much. The only times they spoke were when she found time to call. "What did she want?"

"She heard about Cynthia Weston and says she needs to talk to me about it."

"That's interesting. It never occurred to me that they might have known each other, but I guess they were in the same business for many of years."

"Yeah. She is flying to Palm Beach sometime in the next few days."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Sure. Can we change the subject now?"

"Of course. After all, I just called to tell you I miss you." Rita smiled into the darkness. "What are you doing right now?"

"I was just watching some gorgeous detective on the evening news."

"Should I be worried?"

He tried to picture her in her apartment as he answered. "Maybe, Sammy. She's beautiful, brunette, and has legs to die for."

"Hmmm...she sounds like trouble," Rita quipped. She expected a quick retort and grew worried as he remained silent. "Chris?"

….

Chris had switched off the television and stretched out on the couch with the phone up against his ear. The call from his mother had upset him, like all calls from her usually did, no matter what the subject matter. She had not taken an active interest in his life for decades and he had tried to accept and deal with the limitations of their relationship long ago. They would never have the typical mother/son connection. He had tried to resign himself to the situation. So why did he have to keep reminding himself that the hurt and pain were all in the past and he wanted it to stay that way?

"I love you," he blurted out unexpectedly.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to come over?"

Just the fact that she had offered was enough. "I'm fine," he assured her. "I'm just tired. Maybe I'll turn in and get some sleep."

"Okay, I'll see you at the office at nine."

"Make it 8:30 at the coffee shop."

"You got it," Rita agreed quickly. "Oh, and... Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too," she whispered.

"I know."

Rita laughed softly. He sounded more like his old self. "Goodnight, Sam."

….

Just as Rita had promised, Tuesday flew by in a blur of hectic activity. After a quick cup of coffee together before work, the rest of their day had been spent on the Weston murder investigation. True to form, the media has descended on Palm Beach like locusts on a wheat field.

The two of them managed to avoid the cameras by spending most of the morning on the phone. Within a few hours, the coroner's report confirmed that Cynthia Weston had died from a blunt force trauma to the back of the head, and preliminary crime scene results indicated that she had been killed elsewhere before her lifeless body was dumped in the empty building.

"Anything solid yet?"

Chris looked up to see a very anxious George Donovan standing next to his desk.

"Nothing yet, George."

"Was there anything out of place at her house?" he asked, looking back and forth between Chris and Rita. "I worked with Cynthia on the Council for the Arts benefit last year. I can't imagine why someone would do this to her."

"I'm sorry, George," Rita said, "I didn't realize you knew the victim."

"Most people in local politics ran into her at one time or another," he explained. "She was a very generous lady."

Rita opened up the file on her desk and looked over the previous night's report detailing the search of the Weston mansion. "Nothing unusual, George. Ms. Weston had two live-in maids and neither one heard anything on Sunday night. As far as they know, their employer was out at a holiday fundraiser. She wasn't expected home until after midnight, so they didn't wait up."

"Did you check to see if she attended that party?"

"George...relax," Chris suggested. "I checked already. At least a dozen people can place her there until 10 p.m."

"Does anybody know where she went afterward?" George asked impatiently. He appeared more agitated than usual and rushed to add, "I need you to keep me in the loop on this one. The press is out of control already. No matter how hard we all work on this type of case it's never enough for them. They second-guess every move we make."

"We know, George. We're working on where she went right now," Rita assured him as she stood up. "Ready, Chris?"

"Sure," he answered quickly and jumped up out of his chair. "We're sneaking out the back way, George, so why don't you head out front and distract our friends for us?" He smiled at the Assistant DA as he followed his partner.

"Chris? Rita!" George called after the disappearing duo. "What am I supposed to tell them?

"Make something up, George!" Chris called over his shoulder. "You're a politician, it should be easy!"

George frowned, knowing that if he did as asked and left by way of the front door to the PBPD there were at least a dozen reporters waiting outside on the steps for an update. "Thanks a lot," he muttered to the empty desks around him.

Interviews with friends and relatives followed by another quick visit to the crime scene kept the detectives moving all day. By the time they returned to the station, it was just past six p.m.

The winding hallway that led to the Homicide Department was unusually busy for that time of night. Excited whispers could be heard all around them.

"Oh, no." Chris recognized the uneasy feeling that started in his gut the moment they entered through the swinging doors. He watched the people around him with a growing sense of foreboding.

"What's wrong?" Rita surveyed the room on the way to their desks. Curiously, most of the officers seated around them seemed to be watching the Captain's office. It was somewhat anticlimactic when Harry stuck his head out and motioned them both over to join him.

"Chris," Harry called out, "look who's here."

Anna Alexis appeared in the doorway and smiled at him nervously.

"Christopher…"

As always, she was a strikingly beautiful woman. Even after all these years, his first instinct was to become a little awestruck whenever he first glanced at his movie-star mother. It was a reaction he had learned to recover from very quickly. Amazingly, it had never occurred to Chris that people often reacted to him in the same way. He wouldn't have considered it a compliment to be told that he had inherited his high cheekbones and haunting blue eyes from his famous mother. He considered dedication to service and willingness to give back to the community, traits learned at his grandmother's side, much more a part of who he was as a person.

Rita was right next to him now as he greeted Anna Alexis from his desk. He made no move to approach her.

"Hello, Mother."

Anna smiled in return. If she was disappointed in the lukewarm reception, her acting skills hid it well. "Rita," she acknowledged her son's partner, "you're looking well."

"Thank you, Anna," Rita replied cordially, aware of the interested looks from their colleagues.

….

Harry had met Anna previously when she had flown out to visit Chris after he had been shot a few years back, but there hadn't been much time to talk to her then. The last hour spent in his office as they waited for Chris to return had been very enlightening.

"Chris," he spoke up as both mother and son watched each other in silence, "why don't you use my office. I have some matters to take care of downstairs."

"That's not necessary, Cap," Chris assured him. "We can use an interrogation room."

"Nonsense, we aren't going to make your mother go through that routine. Get in here." Even though he understood Chris' reluctance to give his mother special treatment, they had to remember that she was there to try and help them, not because she was a suspect. He pointed back toward his office as he passed Chris' desk. "Take all the time you need."

….

"I'll wait out here for you." Rita watched her partner closely, worried about the stubborn look on his face.

"Thank you, Rita."

"No," Chris interrupted his mother and turned to his partner. "This is our case, and you have every right to be in on this."

Rita caught the brief look of hurt in Anna's eyes before the woman turned around and disappeared into Harry's office. She looked up at Chris with concern. "Chris, if your mother wants to talk to you..."

He shook his head, not allowing her to continue. "If she wants to talk to me about personal issues, she can talk to me outside of the station. In here, it's business." He took hold of her arm and led her in the direction of the private office. "And besides," he whispered, "you're not leaving me alone with her. Got it?"

She was confused by his insistence and silently sought an explanation.

"Give her ten minutes and she'll be taking potshots at my father. Go ahead, check your watch."

Without thinking, she did just that as she sat down in one of the empty seats in Harry's office. Chris sat in the Captain's chair and took out a pen and notepad.

"Okay, mother, what did you need to talk to me about? I'm assuming it has something to do with Cynthia Weston."

Anna looked back and forth between Rita's warm smile and her son's cool, professional expression.

"Really, Christopher, this isn't easy you know." Used to being pampered, she waited for him to comfort her, but it didn't happen. Both detectives were watching her, one of them impatiently, so she shed the delicate facade and acted like the strong woman that she was - the woman who had survived over thirty years in an industry that routinely devoured its weak.

"I saw the report about Cynthia on the news last night, and I called you right away because I had just talked to her last week."

"What did she want?" Chris asked.

"Have you known her long?" Rita asked simultaneously.

Anna smiled, satisfied that she now had the undivided attention of her audience. She turned to Rita first. "I've known Cynthia since 1980 when we did a movie together. We had come from similar backgrounds, so we hit it off right away. Unfortunately, we lost touch about five years ago when she quit the business."

Anna paused to take a breath, and Chris continued making notes.

"I received a call on Wednesday of last week. She was very upset and said she had to talk to me as soon as possible. I told her that I was working in Los Angeles all week, but if she flew out on Saturday, we could spend some time together."

Chris interrupted his mother for a moment. "Didn't you think it was strange, hearing from her after all those years?"

"Of course, I did."

"And you met her anyway?" Chris shook his head in frustration. What if it had been his mother in that warehouse instead of Cynthia?

"I had to meet her, Chris. She was frantic, and we had once been very close. I wanted to help if I could."

"She flew out to see you?" Rita interrupted, trying to keep the story moving.

"She arrived on Saturday around noon, and we went to Spago's for lunch."

"Get to the point, Mother," Chris requested. "What did she want to talk about?"

"Blackmail."

"Blackmail?" Chris blurted out in surprise. "Who was blackmailing her?"

Anna hesitated, nervously looking at him. "This is where I come in."

Chris ran a hand over his eyes in frustration as he waited for her to continue.

"Just last year, while I was working in Washington D.C., I dated a Congressman from Florida."

"Which one?" Chris asked immediately.

"Fletcher."

Chris tried to picture the face that went with the name, but he drew a blank.

"What happened," Rita prodded before Chris started obsessing on this new tidbit of information.

"After a few weeks, it became apparent to me that Andrew was only going out with me because of what I did, not who I was." She smiled warmly at Rita. "It happens quite a bit in the movie business. There are certain types of men, usually the executive types, that are more concerned with who is seen on their arm than almost anything else in their lives. It becomes their claim to fame. Congressman Fletcher is like that."

Chris didn't say a word, he just sat there listening with a blank look on his face as he let Rita handle the interview.

"Don't get me wrong, he was very good to me. He recognized how important my work is to me, unlike your father, who never really understood why I couldn't give it up and stay home." Lost in her own memories, Anna missed the look that her son sent his partner as he tapped the face of his watch. "We went to fabulous parties and charitable events. He even bought me some lovely gifts, but I knew I had to break it off with him. There was something missing. It's like he was dead inside. No warmth."

Rita glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven minutes, thirty seconds... Chris knew what he was talking about. Her eyes let him know how impressed she was as she encouraged Anna to keep talking. "So, you split up?"

"Yes."

"How does this involve Cynthia? Did she start seeing him?"

"Yes, Andrew is gearing up for re-election next year and since he is a Palm Beach native, he has a reelection office here in the city. I suppose that's how they ran into each other, and they started dating a few months ago. Unfortunately, from what Cynthia told me, she discovered him to be as cold as I did. She wasn't comfortable being any man's trophy any more than I was."

Growing impatient, Chris was ready to cut to the heart of the matter, so he spoke up a little more harshly than he had originally intended to.

"What exactly are you NOT telling us, Mother?"

"On the night that I informed Andrew I didn't want to see him again, he became violent." She looked over at her son expecting to see disgust, but what she saw was even more unnerving. He looked back at her with an icy calm, waiting for her to continue. She cleared her throat. "I was lucky. We were interrupted by some house guests, and he had to leave before he had a chance to hurt me physically, but I'll never forget the way he grabbed me by the hair before they arrived, and I will certainly never forget the look in his eyes. There was more emotion in them, even though it was rage than I had ever seen during the entire time we dated."

Chris watched his mother. Her eyes had dropped to stare at the floor as she spoke and her hands were nervously twisting in her lap. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost but not quite.

"Are you saying that a United States Congressman may have had something to do with Cynthia's death?" Chris asked her bluntly.

"Yes, I am," Anna responded quickly. "Cynthia came out to LA to talk to me because she needed help in getting away from him. She had already told him that she didn't want to see him anymore, but he threatened to go public with their affair if she broke it off."

"Wouldn't that have hurt his career even more than hers?" Rita asked curiously.

"I don't think he would have really done it," Anna confessed, "but the threat scared Cynthia, and she was convinced he would hurt her if she tried to leave. There is something very scary about his eyes when he gets mad. Cynthia had seen photos of me with Andrew last year so she wanted my advice."

"Wouldn't a phone call have worked just as well?" Chris observed.

"Maybe, but Cynthia wanted an excuse to get away from him for a few days, so she lied and told Andrew that she was flying out to LA to audition for a movie. She pretended to be considering a comeback, which is something he was all for. I'm not sure if he is even in town right now because Cynthia said they were supposed to go to a New Year's Eve party in Washington." Anna's voice dropped down to a whisper. "She didn't want to go away with him again, so she was going to try and break it off before tomorrow night".

Chris looked at his partner. "I think it's time we drop by the campaign office and see what we can find out."

"Sounds good to me," Rita joined in quickly.

"Maybe I should go with you, Christopher," Anna offered.

Chris stood up and walked around the desk. "No, we can handle this, Mother. I'll have someone drive you to the airport. Don't forget to leave a phone number for wherever you're going to be staying. I'm sure we'll need to talk to you again."

"But I'm not leaving yet, Chris. I thought maybe we could spend New Year's Eve together."

"I already have plans for tomorrow night."

Anna stood up and placed a hand on Chris' arm. His expression remained inscrutable and she appeared ready to give up. At least until she looked over at the office doorway and saw that Captain Lipschitz had returned. The quiet nod of encouragement from him seemed to help her make up her mind.

"Captain Lipschitz has been kind enough to ask me to join all of you at the party tomorrow night," she informed Chris.

Chris shot the Captain an exasperated glance, but Harry Lipschitz, family counselor, didn't back down.

"You'll love it, Anna," Harry said cheerfully. "I've already called a cab and they'll take you over to the Palm Beach Hilton. I contacted the manager there. They were booked solid but once I gave them your name they managed to find you a lovely suite."

Before Chris could say another word, his boss was guiding his mother out into the squad room, throwing a warning glance back over his shoulder. He motioned for one of the uniformed officers to come over and instructed the star-struck patrolman to accompany their celebrity guest downstairs to the more private rear exit and wait with her for the arrival of the taxi.

Back in the office, Chris was trying to come to grips with the reality of this newest twist in their holiday plans. Yesterday, he had been surprised to learn that Diana was staying at Rita's place for two nights. D was a good friend so he had accepted the new development and tried to be gracious about it, but now fate was really messing with him. His plans for a fun evening with friends and some special time with Rita were becoming threatened once again.

"You'll love it Anna?" he mimicked. "Since when have those two been on a first name basis?"

"Relax, Chris," Rita said quietly as she rested a comforting hand on his back. "This might be the perfect opportunity for you to spend some quality time with her."

Chris wasn't interested in quality time with his mother right now. His sights were focused on the future, not the past. He watched the Captain and the movie star through the open doorway as they said their goodbyes. It was surreal, this mixing of his two separate worlds, and he wasn't very comfortable with it. Anna Alexis would be attending the PBPD's biggest social event of the year and staying at the same hotel where he and Rita would be spending the night. Unbelievable. As fate would have it, this was the first year he and Rita would be taking advantage of the special deal offered by the Hilton Beach Front Resort for party guests who didn't want to drive home afterward. They had convinced themselves they would be able to do so without drawing attention to themselves. After all, there would be hundreds of other couples there.

"There are less than twenty-four hours left before the party starts and everything is falling apart," he said out loud.

"Nothing is falling apart," Rita assured him.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh, stop," she said, pushing him out of the office. "Let's go check out the Congressman's office before we head home. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will still be in. We have a few questions that need some honest answers."

"And that's another thing," Chris quickly pointed out. "This guy put his hands on my mother. My mother! How am I supposed to deal with that? Do you see what happens whenever she blows into town? Nothing but trouble."

Rita let him continue complaining all the way out to her car and even halfway to the Congressman's office. By that time, she had heard enough.

"Are you going to carry on like this much longer?"

Chris stopped mid-sentence and looked over at his partner who was driving. Her understanding smile produced an answering grin from him. "A little overboard, huh?"

Rita chuckled. "Yeah, just a little, Sam."

It was amazing how just a few words from her could put everything in perspective for him. He suspected the only reason she let him rattle on so long was she wanted him to get it out of his system. Unfortunately, while venting his frustrations may have made him feel better for now, he was still worried.

He reached over and took hold of her right hand, holding it in his palm and tracing the delicate lines of her fingers before reluctantly releasing it again. "I just can't help feeling that all of our plans for tomorrow night are careening out of control," he confessed, hoping she understood his darkening mood. "This is a very special New Year's Eve for us. We're together, and I want it to be perfect. It's important to me."

"It's important to me too, but we've been doing this job for a long time, and if there's one thing I think we've learned, it's how to deal with constant surprises. Face it, Sam, we work sixty hours a week, we get called out to crime scenes in the middle of the night, and we deal with people driven over the edge on a daily basis. Have you ever considered that maybe this is as good, or as perfect, as it gets?"

"Harsh, but true," he admitted. "You don't let me get away with anything, do you?" The teasing tone was back in his voice.

"Not much."

"You do realize that I slept alone last night? I should be allowed at least a few minutes of self-pity. I think I've earned it."

"It was only one night, Chris. You haven't exactly qualified for martyrdom yet. Besides, you're a big boy. I'm sure you've spent many nights on your own before." Rita laughed at his expression as she parked in front of the small office complex that housed the Congressman's re-election headquarters.

"Of course, but..."

"Wait!" she interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. "Don't tell me. Things are different now."

"You're catching on," Chris said with a smug, satisfied smile. He leaned closer and surprised her with a quick, hard kiss on the mouth before opening the passenger side door and stepping out of the car.

"Troublemaker..." she whispered, laughing again as she joined him.

If Congressman Fletcher's campaign headquarters had been any smaller, it would have been listed on the directory as a supply closet. The room was only large enough for his desk and that of his secretary's, Janice Brown, who was busily typing as the detectives walked in. She looked up in surprise. A quiet woman in her late forties, she smiled at Chris before turning her glance on the woman next to him. Her intelligent brown eyes swept over Rita quickly and her smile faded as she spotted the gold shield attached to her waistband.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Chris said politely, as he pulled out his I.D. and held it out for her to inspect. "I'm Sergeant Lorenzo and this is my partner, Sergeant Lance. Is the Congressman in today?"

Janice looked from one detective to the other before answering, "He was supposed to stop by over the weekend and pick up the updated contributions list before he left for Washington DC, but I haven't seen him since early last week."

"Can you check his schedule for us?" Chris asked. "We'll need to know when and where we can reach him."

"It's past closing time," Janice stated sharply. "Maybe you could call his Washington office. I know he plans to attend the New Year's function there in DC because I made the reservations for him myself." Realizing her mistake as she noticed Chris eyeing her curiously, she changed her tone and asked politely, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"We're here regarding the death of Cynthia Weston," Rita informed her. She handed a photograph of the actress to Janice. "We've been informed that the Congressman was seeing Ms. Weston socially, and we'd like to talk to him about it."

"Have you ever seen the two of them together?" Chris asked her as his eyes traveled around the small room.

"Yes, I remember Ms. Weston quite well," Janice said. She stared at the actress' face for a minute, her eyes making note of every perfect feature in the obviously airbrushed photo. "I think they stopped seeing each other a couple of weeks ago. Congressman Fletcher dates a lot of women." She handed the picture back to Rita.

"Can you please have the Congressman call us?" There were a lot of undercurrents here, Rita decided as she handed the woman her business card. Ms. Brown refused to meet her eyes. That was never a good sign.

"Certainly, Sergeants. I should be hearing from him sometime today."

"Do you have Congressman Fletcher's airline ticket here?" Chris asked her curiously. He was willing to wait for the man if there was any chance of catching him here tonight. After all, he didn't have any plans for the evening.

"No, Sergeant, I had them mailed to his home."

Chris and Rita were walking back out to her car when Chris' cell phone rang.

"Lorenzo."

"Chris, please tell me you aren't hunting down a United States Congressman!"

"George," he answered cheerily, ignoring the question, "nice to hear from you. Did you ever get around to asking Taylor out for New Year's Eve?"

"Don't toy with me, Lorenzo," George snapped back, impatiently. "I just ran into Harry, and he said you're on your way to see Congressman Fletcher."

Chris opened the driver's side door for Rita and leaned against it as he spoke into the small phone. "Calm down, George. Fletcher isn't in right now. He's probably on the way back to Washington." Chris couldn't suppress a small chuckle from slipping out.

"This isn't funny. We don't mess with the big guys unless we have all the facts straight ahead of time. Otherwise, they'll chew us up and spit us out for dinner. Don't do anything else on this until you talk to me and don't go anywhere near his house."

The smile left Chris' face as he stared off into space. "This man put his hands on my mother, George. Whether he actually killed Cynthia Weston or not, I have a few things to discuss with him."

"Chris! Listen to me..."

It was too late; Chris had disconnected the call and was walking around to the passenger side of the car. "Did you get a home address?" he asked as he sat down in the car and pulled his door closed.

"Got it," Rita confirmed. "What did George want?"

Chris was silent for a moment as they made their way across town. Finally, he turned to her and explained, "It seems we have been instructed to leave Fletcher alone until further notice. George is already panicking about the fallout from this case."

"Did the Captain order us back to the shop?"

"Not exactly. George didn't say a word about any official orders; he just said to talk to him before we do anything else."

"So..."

"How far away are we from his address?"

"About five minutes now. It wouldn't hurt to just swing by and have a look."

Chris grinned at his partner. "You're the driver, Sam."

The Congressman's house was located in a posh area of West Palm Beach. There wasn't a house within a mile that appraised for anywhere under the million-dollar mark. Chris let out a low whistle as they drove up to the curved driveway.

"Nice neighborhood," he commented. "No wonder he can afford to pass out expensive gifts. By the way, do you have any idea how old this guy is? I'm trying to remember if I've ever seen his picture, but I'm drawing a blank."

"You're just reading the wrong section of the newspaper," Rita commented disdainfully. "He's not big on legislation, but he always seems to turn up on the society pages. From what I've read, he grew up in a small apartment above a market in downtown Palm Beach before leaving the state to make a fortune in real estate. When he returned here twenty years ago, he was ready to get into politics and he bought this house. In all the pictures I've seen, I'd say he looks like he's in his late fifties or early sixties." Rita parked the car, and they both sat quietly for a moment, staring at the large two-story house with white columns across the front.

"Shall we see if Andrew is home?" Chris asked, throwing his partner a questioning look.

Rita nodded. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind answering a few questions for local law enforcement. He's probably a very civic-minded individual."

"Yeah, a dedicated civil servant," Chris assured her, unable to disguise the contempt in his voice for a man he had never even met.

The sun had already set and the automatic lights had come on illuminating the walkway as they approached the front door. Chris reached for the doorbell but hesitated when he noticed the door slightly ajar.

"Rita?"

"I'll go around the back," she whispered, slipping away silently.

Chris drew his gun out of his holster and pushed the door open with his foot. The lights were all off inside the house, so it was impossible to see further than three or four feet into the entryway.

"Congressman Fletcher!" Chris called out. "Palm Beach PD, Sir. We'd like to talk to you for a minute."

"Andrew Fletcher?" he called out again.

"Chris?" Rita's voice reached him from the back of the house. She had pulled on a pair of latex gloves and was walking through the inside, turning on several lights as she made her way to the front entry. "It's all clear back here, but the back door was wide open with no sign of a break-in. I'd better call the shop."

Chris walked around the bottom floor, checking each room in turn as he listened to her place the call. Suddenly remembering the small alarm company sign in the front yard, he walked back outside and dialed their number.

Rita found him on the front steps. "Have you checked upstairs yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you. I just spoke to the alarm company, and they claim there hasn't been anything unusual to report." He followed his partner back into the house.

They ascended the stairway single file, with Chris in the lead. Once they reached the landing, each took a separate direction, calling out the Congressman's name as they checked the rooms. Nothing seemed out of order.

"I guess he could be on his way to Washington," Chris said as he followed his partner back down the stairs.

"You're probably right," she agreed. "It's getting late. Why don't we lock up the house as best we can, check the garage, and then head back to the office so you can pick up your car."

"Sounds like a plan." Chris locked the front door from the inside before joining Rita in the kitchen. They let themselves out of the back door and walked across the grassy yard to the six-car garage.

"This garage is three times the size of my first apartment," he commented, smiling at his partner as they walked toward the large white building.

"And probably three times cleaner too."

Chris pretended to be hurt by her words but smiled as he nodded his head. "That's probably true." He peered through the decorative windows along the top of the garage doors. "Small correction. I admit this garage is definitely in better shape, but..."

"What?"

"There wasn't a dead body in my apartment. Of course, I never did look under that large pile of dirty laundry on the floor of my closet." He turned to look back at Rita. "Better have Cap call the guys over at West Palm. George is going to have a fit."

….

Chris and Rita pulled into the underground parking lot of the PBPD two hours later. Rita had already called Diana and explained her delay in getting home, and the body of Congressman Fletcher was on its way to the morgue.

"Evans looked a little upset, didn't he?" Chris teased, as Rita pulled into her parking space, right next to his.

"Can you blame him? He probably thinks we did this on purpose. We have a dead movie star, and now West Palm has a dead U.S. congressman. We're all going to be working overtime to get this mess resolved."

Chris reached for the door handle but paused before opening it. He turned in his seat to face Rita, "Do you have to go right away?"

"It's late, Chris. Why don't you come over and eat with us tonight? Diana is going to think you're mad at her."

"D knows better than that," Chris whispered, his eyes unable to move from her face.

"So," Rita shifted in her seat behind the wheel, one hand tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear as she watched him, watch her, "come over."

He reached across the short distance separating them and brushed his thumb lightly across her lower lip before cupping the side of her face with his open palm. "I'd better not."

"Sam..." The exhaled word came out as a hoarse plea.

Tearing his eyes away from the need in hers, he glanced around the deserted lot for a few seconds, checking to see if they were alone. Before he could make a move, Rita surprised him by leaning forward and touching her lips to his. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, keeping her close. The kiss deepened by mutual consent.

Breaking apart, they quickly removed their wandering hands and brought them back into their own laps as they looked around the garage again.

"Sorry, Sam," Chris apologized. He usually managed to control himself at work. After all, if he dragged her into the interrogation room every time the desire came over him, they'd never get any police work done. He gently pushed the errant lock of hair back behind her ear again.

"Wrong time, wrong place," Rita whispered, taking a deep breath.

"I'd better get going," he admitted reluctantly, knowing that if he didn't move soon, he was likely to forget himself again. Large green eyes watched him, tugging at the strings of his heart, which she owned. He leaned over for another quick kiss and then exited the car.

He drove home in silence, too deep in thought to bother turning on the radio.

Later that night, he was talking to Rita on the phone again.

"Have you heard anything on Fletcher yet?"

"No, but I'm sure it will make the eleven o'clock news," he sighed.

"Miss me?"

"Of course, it's been one hour and forty-three minutes since I left you at the PBPD." He grinned into the phone. "Why don't you come over here after Diana falls asleep and keep me company?"

Rita laughed, knowing he was only half-joking. "I would, Sam, except I'd tire you out too much, and I want you in prime shape for dancing tomorrow night."

"Ahhh... see how you are? I guess I'm doomed to another solid night's sleep." He enjoyed the sound of her quiet laughter for a moment before continuing. "I was thinking that I might go by the shop tomorrow and get caught up on some of the paperwork. Maybe make a few calls."

"You don't have to do that. We're off the clock until Friday."

"I'm restless, Sam. I can't explain it. Maybe it's because Anna is in town. Plus, you're busy with Diana tomorrow morning."

"Chris?"

"I'm not complaining," he assured her quickly. "You know I love D, and I'm glad you're getting to spend some time together." He spoke quickly, not wanting to put her in a position of feeling sorry for him. That wasn't his intent and she deserved the time off. "What do you two have planned for tomorrow?"

"Nothing I can't cancel, Chris, if you need my help."

"Forget it, Rita. I don't want to see or hear from you until I meet you in our hotel room. If I get there a little before six, we should have plenty of time to meet Diana and David before the party starts."

"I have to confess; I'm really looking forward to the facial and the massage."

"You deserve it."

"Thank you, kind sir. I'll be relaxed and ready by six."

"It's a date then."

"I like the sound of that," Rita murmured. "I wish you were here so I could kiss you goodnight."

"Trust me, Sam, if I were there, I certainly wouldn't be kissing you goodnight right now."

"You wouldn't? What would you be doing?"

"Where are you right now?" he asked in a husky whisper.

"I'm downstairs on the couch. Why?"

"Sitting up or lying down?"

"Sitting up."

"In the dark?"

"Yes..."

"If I were there with you right now, I would be sitting right next to you with my arms around you, Sam."

There was a long pause as Rita rested her cheek against the back of the couch. "You would?" she asked, closing her eyes to enjoy the soft timbre of his voice as the sound caressed her. "I could use your warmth right now, it's a cool night."

"If you're cold, we could lie down under the comforter together. I'm wearing my gray shirt, but I'd be willing to loan it to you. Your arms have all the warmth I need."

"You're wearing your gray shirt?" Eyes still closed, she smiled, picturing him in the gray button-down dress shirt that she loved to borrow and wear around his apartment after making love. She was well aware of the effect she had on him, dressed in a man's shirt that accented two of her best features - her legs. While not normally interested in getting caught up in all the games between the sexes, there were times when it felt so good to be a woman.

"It still has your scent on it," he said quietly. "Can you imagine my arms around you, Sammy."

"Yes."

"They're moving lower to encircle your waist and pull you closer to me."

"Hmmm... I like that."

"Rita? Is everything okay?" Diana stood at the top of the stairs and called out into the dark room below, startling her friend.

Rita's eyes flew open, and she turned to sit up straight on the couch again.

"Everything is fine, Diana."

"Oh, okay. I thought I heard voices down there."

"I'm on the phone, but I'm just about done."

"Say goodnight to Chris for me," Diana chuckled and turned back to the bedroom.

"Chris?"

His only response was a grumbling sound.

"Be nice."

"Nice, huh?" he muttered. "I guess I'd better say goodnight then."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she offered with a smile in her voice. "Don't forget that we're going for drinks in David and Diana's room at six. I'll be waiting for you."

"I'll be there."

….

Chris was in the office by eight a.m. on Wednesday morning, too restless to stay home and find something to occupy his time. Just as he had hoped, there was so much work waiting for him, the hours passed quickly. The neighboring city of West Palm Beach was now struggling with their own high-profile homicide and Chris was in constant contact with the detectives assigned to it. All evidence in the case was given top priority and the overnight lab results showed that there were two types of blood found in the congressman's garage. One type matched Fletcher, and to no one's surprise, the other type was cross-matched with Cynthia Weston. Both victims had been killed there in the garage. Cynthia with a metal pipe found on the scene, and Fletcher with a small-caliber handgun that had not yet been located.

Harry walked out of his office and met Chris over at the fax machine.

"Hey, Cap," Chris greeted his boss, as he waited impatiently for the evidence report from West Palm.

"A watched pot, Lorenzo," Harry commented sarcastically, nodding towards Chris' fingers as they drummed on the top of the machine.

Chris smiled in response but stood his ground. A few seconds later the machine rang and started making noises as it slowly spat out sheets of paper. Chris and Harry read the evidence list, line by line, as it printed off.

"Look at this, Cap," Chris said picking up the first sheet. "Item number seven."

"A computer printout? Nothing unusual about that." He followed Chris back to the young detective's desk and leaned against it as Chris started flipping through his notes on the case.

"When Rita and I spoke to Janice Brown, the woman that ran Fletcher's campaign office, she said he hadn't been in the office for almost a week and that she was still waiting for him to pick up last week's contributions report. What is the date and time on the list that was taken into evidence?"

Harry lifted up his glasses to get a better look at the small print. "December 26, eight a.m." He looked back at Chris. What day did you talk to the Brown woman?"

"Monday, December 28. She lied to us. He picked up the list or she delivered it to him. Either way, she must have been one of the last people to see him before he was killed. Now that I think about it, she also said that the congressman and Ms. Weston had stopped seeing each other a few weeks ago. I think I'll check with the airlines and see how many tickets Ms. Brown booked for the trip to DC. According to Anna, Cynthia Weston was trying to avoid taking that trip with Fletcher. Maybe we can trace Cynthia's whereabouts to Fletcher's house on Sunday night." Chris stood up and slipped his jacket back on. "I think I need to pay the Congressman's secretary another visit. She wasn't very truthful with us last time."

"Give Evans from West Palm a call. He probably has her home address."

"Good idea, Cap." Chris placed the call and arranged to meet Sgt. Evans. They would be dropping in on Janice Brown together.

A few hours later, Chris was on his way home with Harry's blessings. The statewide search for Janice Brown was on and would be handled by both precincts. The two detectives had arrived at her apartment to find the front door wide open and half of her belongings gone. A quick search of her papers turned up a large stack of bills from a plastic surgeon for cosmetic work, and an even larger stack of notices from other creditors demanding payment for past due bills. A federal audit was also being considered to look into any inconsistencies in the late congressman's fund-raising practices and his secretary's handling of the contributions that had already been received.

In short, it was a political and legal mess that seemed to involve Janice Brown, Congressman Fletcher, and Cynthia Weston. An APB had been issued for Janice, and there was not much to be done on Chris and Rita's part until she was located. Sgt. Evans had initiated a full background check on Janice Brown, and the results would hopefully be in by Friday morning when Chris and Rita returned to work. Suspicion was now falling heavily on the secretary, who seemed to have skipped town in a hurry.

Chris walked in the front door of his apartment just as his answering machine clicked off. He played back the message, surprised to hear Diana's voice suggesting that he pack up his tux and come over to the hotel.

By three-thirty Chris was walking into the Hilton resort. As instructed, he stopped at the front desk and asked for messages. He was handed a white envelope by the desk clerk. It was addressed to him in Diana's handwriting, with the hotel name embossed in the upper left corner. Inside the innocent-looking envelope, there was a keycard and a note from her.

"_Rita is expecting me to join her at four so we can dress for the party together in your room. I thought you might like to surprise her instead. Thanks for your patience this week. David and I will be expecting you at six, but I'll understand if you pass. Love, D"_

Chris refolded the note and slipped it into his pocket. The keycard rested in his open palm. A huge grin spread across his face, causing more than one woman to smile in return as they passed the handsome man in the lobby.

The desk clerk was watching him also. "Can I help you with something, Sir?" he asked when Chris made no effort to move.

"No thanks," Chris responded politely, "I think I've got the situation under control." Closing his fingers around the small card, he picked up his suit bag, hitched it over his shoulder and headed for the elevators.

Inside their hotel room, Rita had just stepped into the shower. The sting of the hot spray was invigorating and welcome. Reminiscing about the last few hours, she was amazed at how the morning had flown by as she and Diana had indulged in pampering themselves. The resort had a weight room and the two women had started their fitness routine in there before moving on to enjoy swimming, a facial and a full body massage.

She reached for the soap and smiled, thinking of Diana. No matter how much time elapsed between visits, and no matter how many hours they spent together, they never ran out of conversation. A friend like that was hard to find. Even their silences were comfortable.

Out in the hallway, Chris knocked lightly on the hotel room door but there was no response so he used the keycard Diana had left him to gain entry. It was an attractive room with a king-size bed, a table with two chairs, and a small sofa. He could hear water running in the shower. Rita had left the bathroom door open a few inches and steam was slowly escaping into the sleeping area. She was humming softly, a little off-key as usual. Before investigating, he hung up his suit bag in the closet next to her floor-length evening dress.

Without thinking twice, he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt. A roguish smile broke out as he shed the rest of his clothes quickly and headed for his songbird.

Unaware that she was no longer alone, Rita arched her back and let the water run over her hair, sighing in pleasure. Her strained muscles were loosening up from the heat. Her fingers massaged her scalp while lifting and separating the brunette strands.

She had just turned face-first into the pulsating spray when the whoosh of cold air surprised her. She instinctively tried to turn back around, but two firm, familiar hands took hold of her upper arms and pulled her against a solid wall of muscle and flesh.

"This is a pleasant surprise," she murmured in lieu of a greeting. She leaned into the pressure of his lips as they sipped the moisture from her skin, skimming across the back of her shoulders and burying themselves under the wet hair at the base of her neck. "When did you arrive?" A soft groan of pleasure escaped.

"Just now," he teased, lowering his hands to her waist and pressing her more fully to him.

"Happy to see me, huh?"

"Desperate to see you, Sam." His hands and mouth kept moving, silent testaments to the truth behind his words. "I've missed you."

Reaching past her to the shower shelf, he picked up the bar of soap and started to lather it between his hands. "Let me get your back," he suggested, placing the soap back down. His hands then began a slow, meandering journey, re-familiarizing themselves with the curves and valleys he had seen only in his dreams over the last few nights. Each short separation these days only served to remind him how much he wanted her in his life. Forever.

The slippery vision turned to face him and reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth down to hers. The small bathroom was shrouded in steam as the couple came together. The hot water continued its steady rhythmic pounding against their bare skin.

Chris couldn't get close enough. There was hunger growing from deep within and he wanted more, so much more, it worried him at times. He broke off the kiss and leaned back against the side of the shower. His eyes softened, taking in the sleek sexy woman in front of him. She moved restlessly, and his eyebrows arched as she planted a hand against the tile on either side of his head, effectively imprisoning him between her arms.

Rita leaned forward and the tip of her tongue sought the corner of his mouth as she whispered, "Not gun shy, are you?"

"Who? Me?" he managed to sputter in response.

"Yeah, you..." She pressed the full weight of her slender body against him as she deepened the kiss and was rewarded with an answering pressure from his hands as they moved to the small of her back, encircling her waist again and lifting her up to bring her even closer. Her sense of urgency was contagious and she was more than ready when he moved away from the wall. Her legs found balance around his hips, and they moved together, slowly making love in their private world of steamy desire and wet heat.

Long after Rita couldn't take it anymore, her body tightening and clenching over his, and long after they had tenderly dried each other off, setting off another lovemaking session on the bathroom counter, the happily sated couple lay talking in bed with only a sheet casually thrown over themselves to keep warm in the air-conditioned room.

Suddenly remembering the time, Rita lifted her head off of Chris' chest and looked at the clock. "It's after five! Diana should have been here already. We're supposed to be getting dressed here before the party." She attempted to get up, but Chris' arm kept her right next to him. "Chris! I gave her a key. She could come in at any moment."

Chris stroked her hair and smiled that devastatingly wicked smile of his. "Who do you think left their key for me at the front desk?"

"Diana did that?" She looked at him in surprise.

He fingered the curtain of hair that dangled so temptingly over his chest before he answered. "D has always been one of my favorite people," he teased. "She understands me."

"She does?"

"Yes," he growled, letting his hands slip down to caress the swell of hips.

"She understands how much I love you." Keeping a firm grip on some wonderful parts, he rolled over, pinning Rita beneath him. "Remind me to thank her tonight. I might even buy her and David a drink. Hell, I feel so good right now, maybe I'll buy everyone at the table a drink."

Nose to nose, heart to heart, Rita lay against the pillow, content in Chris' arms, and smiling at his boyish grin of satisfaction. She wouldn't begrudge him a little boasting, she felt like shouting her happiness from the rooftops herself. Their self-imposed shroud of secrecy was becoming a little confining, strained by this new level of happiness in their lives, and their natural desire to share it with family and friends.

Rita narrowed her eyes, tilted her head to one side, and carefully tested the waters. "If you bought a drink for everyone there tonight, the Captain would be suspicious for sure."

His lips touched the tip of her nose lightly and grazed across her cheeks as he whispered, "Would that be such a bad thing, Sam?"

She dropped her eyes from his intense stare. "I've thought about this a lot, Chris."

"Listen to me, Rita," he interrupted, settling back to rest his weight on one elbow. "I'm not ashamed of what we have between us. You're the most important person in my life and I'm getting a little tired of sneaking around like we're doing something wrong."

Rita held up a hand to silence him before he continued with an argument that didn't exist. "As I said, Chris," she tried again, "I've given this a lot of thought and while I still think we should avoid making an announcement, I don't think we should deny anything either."

"Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm lying all the time, also. Cap and Frannie deserve better. All our friends deserve the truth."

"And if we get split up at work?" Chris asked, putting words to their greatest fear.

Rita framed his face with her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "Then we deal with it when it happens, just like any other roadblock in life. We can't hold on to that fear and let it prevent us from moving on in our lives to more important goals."

Chris smiled in relief, and spoke in a soft, measured tone, "When I was twenty-four years old and fresh out of the academy, I thought the job was everything and that I couldn't live without it."

"I was the same way," Rita responded, nodding gently in understanding.

"But now," his gaze softened with love, taking in the beauty beneath him. "Now, I know that I would miss the job if I ever had to give it up, it's so much a part of who I am. But something inside me, something more important and vital, would cease to exist if I ever lost you." Just speaking the words sent a little ripple of fear through him, and he bent down to kiss her hungrily.

She gasped for breath when he finally freed her mouth and moved lower to kiss her throat.

"We only have an hour," Chris murmured as he nibbled on her collarbone and trailed a hand down the length of her hip. Grabbing the leg closest to him, his hand closed around the back of her knee and pulled it up to him, surrounding himself in her warmth.

"Hmm...I suppose we should start getting dressed," she replied lazily.

"Yes, we should," he agreed.

Rita's face lit up. "I can be ready in half an hour if I really put my mind to it."

"Okay, I suppose I could do that, too."

. "So that still leaves us..."

"Plenty of time," he promised happily, tightening his hold on her and rolling to the other side of the bed. When he stopped, he was flat on his back with Rita resting on his chest.

"You won the toss, Sam," he teased. "I'm at your mercy."

"Exactly where I wanted you," she assured him with a captivating smile.

….

Diana and Rita, both in floor-length dresses, lifted their skirts a few inches as they stepped into the hotel elevator. Diana, wearing a dark lavender strapless gown with a matching wrap, leaned over to whisper to her friend, "I think I could get used to playing dress-up." Silver combs swept her hair back from her face, and a mass of shimmering dark curls cascaded down her back. Diamond studs adorning her ears, a surprise Christmas gift from David, were almost as dazzling as her smile.

Rita responded to Diana with a knowing smile of her own. "It does make a woman feel special." She stood next to her friend in a striking form-fitted navy velvet dress with a vertical beaded pattern. The sleeveless gown had a high neckline and a thigh-high leg slit. It hugged every curve beautifully, but it was the back of the dress that had Chris' jaw dropping. The plunging open back was held together by two one-inch-wide beaded straps that crisscrossed between her shoulder blades, showcasing the elegant curve of her spine and her slender physique. Matching formal length satin evening gloves completed the ensemble. It was an outfit guaranteed to keep her partner close to her side.

Both women looked stunning, and their companions had been the first to tell them so with appreciative glances and even a few wolf whistles as they enjoyed drinks in Diana and David's hotel room before the party.

Right now, they waited for their dates who were holding the automatic doors open while discussing the football schedule for New Year's Day. Chris and David, both elegantly dressed in black tuxedos, continued their good-natured argument as they stepped inside the elevator.

Chris pressed the button that would take them down to the lobby. "Okay, David," he said grinning as he pointed at Diana's date, "I will bet you tomorrow night's dinner that I'm right."

"Chris, Chris, Chris," David sighed, "I'd love to take your money, even though it would be stealing because I know I'm right." The handsome young attorney rested an arm across Diana's shoulders and held up his other hand to stop Chris' protests. "But we're going to my parents' house after we leave here tomorrow, so we'll have to pass on dinner. They're anxious to meet Diana." He looked down into her luminous brown eyes, "We drove up to her folks' house on Christmas day, so now it's her turn to face the inquisition."

Rita glanced at Diana, searching for any signs of nervousness, but her friend looked confident and calm. She was happy for her. David, a lawyer working his way up the political ladder in the State Attorney's office, seemed like a very genuine guy.

"Uh oh," Chris warned with a grin, "the parent thing! You're in trouble now, D. Do you want me to tag along as a character reference?"

"I don't think that would help much," Diana said laughing. "They are already a little unnerved by my occupation, I'm not sure they can handle any more surprise revelations."

"I promise not to tell them about the time we were called out for a naked corpse on the beach, and he suddenly came back to life while you were..."

"Chris!" Rita and Diana chorused at the same time.

Luckily the elevator stopped at that moment, opening into the hotel lobby. The laughing foursome stepped out, joining the steady stream of formally dressed guests that were making their way toward the large convention area that had been transformed into a ballroom for the night.

Rita walked at Chris' side, head held high, with one gloved hand tucked securely into the crook of his arm. Friends and colleagues from Palm Beach and West Palm Beach passed each other, calling out greetings and holiday wishes. So far, their appearance together hadn't raised an eyebrow. She began to relax.

It was all well and good to tell Chris she was ready for this next step in their relationship, but it was another thing to be here on his arm without having to censor every look and every move, always afraid of acting too familiar with each other.

Chris pulled the tickets out of his jacket pocket as they approached the entrance to the ballroom. The charity event was organized and run by a volunteer committee that worked on it all during the course of the year, and this was one of the city's biggest fundraisers to benefit the county's Victim Services Center. Over six hundred people were expected to attend tonight, the majority of them policemen, firemen, city officials, their spouses, and dates.

Rita glanced up as they walked in, trying to take in all the festive decorations. A large arrangement of white roses hung over the center of the archway with green foliage framing both sides all the way down to the floor. They stepped up to one of the ushers and handed him their tickets.

The white-gloved attendant checked the master list. "Lorenzo, party of two," he murmured, trying to find their name. He looked back up at Chris, "Table 57, Sir. It's to the left of the ballroom. You'll see a small number sign in the floral centerpiece on each table, and there are other ushers along the perimeter of the room if you need help."

Chris nodded his thanks and led Rita off to one side as they waited for Diana and David to check-in. Stepping across the threshold into the huge ballroom was like stepping into another world. They both looked up in awe at their surroundings. The orchestra was playing songs from the forties, and everywhere they looked, flowers filled the room. There were even potted palms placed all along the walls. The Gala committee had been successful in creating a feast for the senses, lending a magical touch to their New Year's celebration and a welcome respite from the harsh realities of their jobs.

"Nervous?" Chris asked, raising his voice to ask his fidgety companion. The noise level in the room made it hard to converse in a normal tone.

"Me? No. Should I be?" She smiled in response to his concern. Nervous was definitely not the right word for how she was feeling right now. Excited, happy, maybe even a little anxious but definitely not nervous.

"Okay. I was just checking." He glanced directly into the green eyes that watched him closely, and his expression softened. His eyes automatically dropped down to stare at her mouth; warm liquid memories sneaking in to tease his subconscious. "You weren't supposed to tire me out this afternoon, Sam," he said in a loud whisper. "I hope I'm up to dancing tonight."

Rita leaned closer, her bare shoulder nudging him in the chest. "Had I known you were in such a delicate shape; I would have locked the bathroom door."

Chris lowered his head until his forehead was touching hers, about to make an appropriate comment when they heard David's voice.

"Number 57," Diana's date called out, their table assignment in hand.

Chris and Rita both straightened up, but not without Chris having the last word.

"We'll discuss my 'condition' later," he promised with a grin. The only answer he received was a very suggestive smile from his partner.

Table 57 was found without too much trouble, and the foursome was greeted by the couple already sitting there. George stood as they approached, as did Taylor, so she could hug them all hello. Not wanting to make George and Taylor nervous, no one teased them about being there together. They were all aware that the relationship was in the early, fragile stages, and everyone was hoping it would work out. They both deserved some happiness in their lives.

"Has the Captain arrived yet?" Chris asked George as they shook hands.

"Yes, he has," George answered with a chuckle. "He and Frannie are introducing your mother to the Police Commissioner on the other side of the room. It seems that everyone is surprised to find out that she is the mother of one of Palm Beach's finest." He patted Chris on the shoulder with his free hand. "Come Monday, you have a lot of explaining to do, Chris."

Chris groaned as he glanced around the room. He had known this was going to happen the minute she showed up. It was impossible to deny. Anna Alexis was an icon of the American movie business, and because she had been a successful actress for so long, everyone felt they knew her. Everyone, that is, except her own son. People had always gravitated to her like moths to a light bulb. Maybe that was why she never found it necessary to work on relationships with her own family, there were always people waiting in line who were willing to do all the work for her.

Rita touched his arm. "Why don't we sit down," she suggested, "they'll be back in just a few minutes."

They joined the others at the table, and a lively conversation ensued, their laughter ringing out unnoticed in the commotion around them. Waiters started circling, pouring out wine from the bottles on each table, and taking drink orders for those with special requests.

Anna returned with the Harry and Fran just as the mayors of Palm Beach and West Palm Beach, the official hosts for the evening, stepped up to the microphone and welcomed everyone. As soon as the speeches were over, dinner was announced and the orchestra took a break. The recorded sounds of a famous clarinet player filled the air as the waiters got busy delivering the three-course meal.

Not long after dinner was through, Rita excused herself to head to the lady's lounge with Taylor. Frannie decided to join them. With Harry deep in conversation with George, and Diana off to visit another table with David, Chris was left alone with Anna.

"You've hardly said a word to me all night, Chris," she said quietly, not wasting any time. "I thought you might phone me today since I was staying here at the hotel."

"I was working this morning, and besides, I didn't think there was much to say," he said honestly, meeting her gaze directly. "I don't know what you want from me anymore."

"I'm your mother, Chris. I don't want anything. I just thought we could spend some time and visit with each other. I want to know how you're doing." She watched his closed expression, not sure of how to get through to him. "I didn't even know you had broken up with Jillian. How do you think that made me feel?"

Chris looked around the room, relieved to see Rita walking back toward the table. He stood up to go meet her but leaned down to whisper in Anna's ear before he left, "The word mother isn't just a noun. It's also a verb." Straightening up, he met his partner's eyes twenty feet away. "If you'll excuse me, the orchestra is starting back up. I think I'll go see if Rita wants to try out the dance floor."

Anna turned back to look across the table in defeat. Meeting Harry's concerned glance, she looked away quickly.

"Give him time," he suggested softly.

"I don't know if he'll let me back in again," Anna confessed. "No matter how much I want to try, I don't think Chris is willing this time."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't so sure of her sincerity, but he hated to see anyone in emotional pain. "He has a lot on his mind right now. Maybe you should take it slow and not rush things. If you keep trying, he'll respond."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Basic human nature," Harry assured her. "We all need to be loved by our mothers. That's all he really wants from you; it's just buried beneath all the other baggage."

Anna watched her son lead his partner to the empty dance floor. She continued watching them until other couples blocked her view. "Of course, I love him," she whispered. Sensing someone's presence, she looked up to see the police commissioner smiling down at her. She agreed to his request for a dance, and they headed to the dance floor together.

"Interesting woman," Frannie commented to her husband as she sat down next to him. "She hasn't changed much since the last time she came to visit."

"No, she hasn't," Harry agreed as they watched her walk away. "She still looks great."

Frannie frowned in annoyance. "I meant her attitude! She still wants a relationship with her son without having to give anything to him in return." So, Harry thought she was attractive, did he? She was definitely going to have to keep an eye on the actress. After all these years, she knew full well there were women out there who went crazy over a man in Harry's position.

"Oh! I see what you mean," Harry said quickly. "Why don't we get out there and dance, sweetheart? This is my kind of music." He stood up quickly and pulled out his wife's chair, anxious to change the subject. "Isn't that Moon River?"

As soon as he held his wife in his arms, Harry was home. They had fit together like two puzzle pieces from day one, and tonight was no different. His Frannie was as beautiful as ever in her long blue dress, and together they moved across the dance floor, lost in the music.

"You should ask her to dance," Rita reminded her partner.

"I will," he murmured into her hair.

"Sometime tonight," she threw in for clarity.

"Oh."

"Seriously, now is as good a time as any."

"That will leave you with the Police Commissioner," he warned.

"I'm not afraid of Commissioner Jenkins," Rita laughed.

"Actually, Sam, I was feeling sympathy for the poor man. You really let him have it on the Berringer case." It was Chris' turn to laugh as Rita bit her lower lip.

"I forgot about that. Well, what could I do? He was accusing us of not doing our job." She smiled again. At least this was taking his mind off of other matters. "I just defended the department against an uncalled-for attack. We all knew it was a political ploy, and I was the only one willing to tell him so."

"Poor guy, probably still hasn't recovered."

"I wasn't that bad," Rita argued with a guilty grin. "Okay, okay, so I got a little upset. I'm sure he's forgotten all about it."

Chris led them to where his mother stood as the music came to an end. The commissioner, obviously smitten with Anna, graciously handed her over to her son, and barely even flinched as he did the polite thing and asked Rita to dance. Chris caught the wary look on the man's face and tried not to laugh. Turning back to his mother as the music started, they made their way to the middle of the dance floor. Chris remained quiet, not quite sure how to make small talk with such a big invisible wall between them.

He needn't have worried. Anna was more than willing to speak first.

"Rita looks beautiful tonight," she commented with a smile.

"Yes, she does," he agreed wholeheartedly.

"Is she seeing anyone right now?" she asked.

"I'd rather not talk about Rita behind her back," Chris responded sharply. He wasn't about to go down this road with his mother.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Anna said quickly, "I was just trying to find some common ground for us."

"Rita is off-limits, Mother."

"As you wish, Christopher."

The silence between mother and son was heavy, despite the music surrounding them.

"How long will you be in town?" Chris finally asked.

"Just a few more days. Maybe we could have lunch together this weekend? Or dinner?"

"Sure," he agreed, unaware of the wistful longing in his eyes. "I'd like that."

"So, would I," she was quick to respond.

...

Rita smiled sympathetically at the Commissioner as he held her chair out for her. Unless she was mistaken, he couldn't wait to get rid of her and go claim Chris' mother for another dance. The actress was all he could talk about while they were on the dance floor. It seemed like Anna had made another conquest.

"Commissioner, can I speak with you?" George called out as he and Taylor returned to the table. "This will only take a minute," he assured Taylor.

"Take your time, George," she said smiling. "I'll visit with Rita." She claimed the empty chair next to Rita as the two men walked off together. Unable to drag her eyes away just yet, she watched her date for a minute before turning to her friend. "He's so worried about upsetting me whenever work interferes."

"Andrea had a real problem with that," Rita explained quietly.

"Did you know her well?"

"No, nobody at work did. I think she felt uncomfortable around us."

"I've only seen her a few times," Taylor confessed. "Sometimes I worry that he's still in love with her." Her fingers played nervously with the tablecloth.

"Excuse me, Sgt. Lance."

Rita turned around to see a young man standing behind her chair. He shifted restlessly, dropping his eyes to the floor the minute she looked up at him.

"Yes?"

Jim Carson cleared his throat and forced himself to speak. "I was wondering if..." Dammit! She was looking at him that way again. Her eyes were beautiful green orbs of kindness and compassion. He knew he was making a fool of himself, but after two hours of trying to work up the courage, he wasn't about to give up now that he was standing right next to her.

Taylor caught Rita's eye and smiled. The young man was obviously very nervous around Rita, and she found herself rooting for him, hoping he wouldn't give up before he said what he wanted to say. She knew what it felt like to be tongue-tied.

"You were wondering?" Rita asked, trying to help him out. She thought she recognized him from the precinct, but she wasn't sure. Everyone looked so different in their evening wear.

"I was wondering if you'd care to dance?" Jim said quickly, trying to get it all out in one breath before he turned and ran. He never seemed to have this problem with the younger women he asked out. There was just something about Rita Lance that captured his attention and rendered him speechless. His eyes widened, but he tried to control his fear when she accepted him and stood up. He didn't dare touch her bare back as they made their way, side by side, to the dance floor. It was as if he were walking next to a dream, and all he could do was just keep moving.

Jim actually closed his eyes for a second when he took her in his arms for the slow dance, but they shot open almost immediately as a terrifying thought hit him. Small talk! Oh my God, he was going to have to talk to her! What was he going to say?!

"Where did Rita go?" Chris asked Taylor. After having left his mother in the hands of the Commissioner, he decided to see if he could talk his partner into going for a walk outside. The monkey suit was getting a little claustrophobic.

"She's dancing," Taylor said with a small laugh.

"With who?" Chris strained his neck to check out the crowd, but Rita was nowhere to be seen.

"One of the young rookies from work asked her. You'd better watch out," Taylor teased, "He looks like he's got a serious crush on her."

Chris scowled impatiently. This was turning out to be a very unsettling evening, and he wasn't sure how to get all the different aspects of it back under control. The first thing he needed to do was to locate his partner. Just as he was about to excuse himself and go find her, he spotted her walking back toward the table with young Carson trailing faithfully behind her. "Good God!" he muttered to himself, the kid was practically mooning over her.

"Go easy on him, Chris," Taylor begged, "I was just teasing you about his crush on Rita." Taylor reached over to touch his arm and became a little concerned about the tension she felt there.

"Relax, Taylor," he muttered under his breath, "he won't feel a thing." He waited until the couple reached the table before calling out a greeting to the younger man.

"Carson! You made it here tonight." Chris' handshake was firm. "Thanks for returning my date to me."

"Your date, Sir?" The officer gulped.

"Didn't I did tell you that I would have the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm?" Satisfied with the quick nod from Carson, he looked to his partner. "Don't tell me Sergeant Lance forgot to mention that she was here with me tonight."

"That's right, Sir, she didn't mention you at all," Jim answered with military precision. The instant the words came out of his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. The older detective's expression confirmed it. "I mean, no Sir, we talked about a lot of things, but your name never came up." Jim gave up trying. He certainly didn't want to get on either detective's bad side. Maybe it was wiser to hang around with his own group from work and forget about the old-timers. He turned to Rita and started to excuse himself, "Thank you for the dance, Sergeant."

Chris wasn't ready to let him go just yet. "Are you sure you won't join us, Carson? Why don't you sit right here between Sgt. Lance and myself? We can all get to know each other better."

Jim started shifting nervously from one foot to the other as if preparing to bolt at any moment.

This really wasn't going well, he thought to himself.

"Chris," Rita interrupted, laying a hand on his arm, "I think Jim has other things to do besides sitting here with us." She looked at the young officer and smiled. "It was nice to get a chance to talk to you, Jim. I'm sure we'll run into each other on many occasions at work. Have fun tonight."

Sergeant Lance was truly an angel, and he, Jim Carson, was smart enough to know when he was being granted a reprieve. Nodding to everyone at the table, he took off, anxious to get back to his group of friends and looking forward to asking a few of the single women to dance. He knew going in that Rita Lance was out of his league, but he would always have the memory of dancing slowly in a glittering ballroom with the woman of his dreams in his arms.

Back at the table, Rita turned to Chris.

He held up his hand to silence her before she even said a word. "I know, I know, I was a little over the top, right?"

"Just a little, Sam." Leaning against him, she smiled as his arms closed around her waist. "I thought for a minute there that you might be jealous, but then I told myself that was impossible. Would Christopher Lorenzo be jealous of a young rookie still wet behind the ears? Couldn't happen."

George had walked up to the table while Chris and Rita were talking and glanced questioningly at his date. Taylor went to stand next to him and put a finger to her lips as she continued to observe the other couple. Chris and Rita had kept their relationship private for so long, she was fascinated now as they spoke intimately to each other. It was like seeing a new side of them, but not really, because they had always been so close, just not in this way. Fascinating.

Chris took Rita's chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to his. His thumb couldn't resist brushing across her soft rose painted lips. Heaven on earth could be found with those lips. They held the power of the universe for him. Words of love from them opened his heart as quickly as words of another kind could wound him deeply. Did she have any idea of his frailty where she was concerned?

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered, "I saw the look in his eyes as he watched you, and I was jealous. He was holding you in his arms on that dance floor while mine were empty. "

"And did you happen to notice the look in my eyes?" Rita murmured, taking a nip out of his thumb.

"No, I was too busy deciding whether to smash that look off his face here or in the parking lot."

Sighing, Rita touched the side of his mouth, trying to soften the frown that had found its way there. "Well, if you had looked, you would have seen the same look on my face then as when I danced with Commissioner Jenkins."

Chris' eyebrows arched up in surprise, and a grin broke out. "Poor, Carson."

Rita laughed and asked, "You weren't really jealous, were you?"

"If you mean, did I really think you would run off with the little twerp, then no, I wasn't really jealous. But if you mean that I was wishing it was me holding you on that dance floor instead of him, and that every moment we spend apart, I miss you, then yes, I was extremely jealous."

"Good answer," George chimed in, forgetting at that moment that he was supposed to be a silent observer.

"George!" Taylor cuffed him on the arm.

Taylor was looking at him with amused annoyance, while Chris and Rita were looking embarrassed and a little shocked at George's easy acceptance of what he had overheard.

"Hey, I was just calling 'em as I see 'em," George said, breaking the silence and shrugging his shoulders.

"George," Rita pointed over her shoulder at Chris, "maybe we should explain."

"No, please, don't bother," he assured her. "I shouldn't have interrupted a private conversation. It's my fault. No explanations necessary."

Chris was about to comment when he spotted a familiar figure across the room. His eyes widened in disbelief as he heard the loud boisterous laugh. That in itself was amazing considering the noise level surrounding them. The instinct to flee had never been so great. It was a sure sign of Armageddon. It had to be. Either that, or he was stuck in a horrendous nightmare guaranteed to require years of therapy.

"This cannot be happening," he mumbled to himself.

Rita heard his quiet words. She leaned her head back and searched his face with worried eyes. "What's wrong?" He was still staring across the room so she followed his gaze. "Is that who I think it is? Did you invite him?"

"Not in a million years," Chris muttered, raising his hands as if to wash them of the entire situation. "I can't take much more of this." Stepping away from Rita, he walked uneasily towards the approaching figure, meeting him halfway.

"Hey, Big Guy!" Benny Lorenzo called out as he embraced his son and slapped him affectionately on the back. "Surprised?"

"You can say that again, Pop," Chris confessed as they stood apart and checked each other out. "What in the world are you doing here?"

Benny tugged on the lapels of his Armani tux and took a long proud look at his son. Chris had never looked better, he decided. "Can't your tired old man check up on his one and only son every once in a while?" he teased.

"Considering the fact that it's been two years since the last time I saw you, Pop, I think you can understand my curiosity. You picked a strange time to visit." Chris guided his father in the direction of the table where Rita was waiting for them.

Benny stopped where he was and the smile disappeared from his face. He rested a hand on Chris' shoulder and looked him square in the eye. "Okay, son, I confess. I had some business to take care of with a client in town, and I remember you telling me about this little wingding, which my client is attending also, so I thought I'd drop in. I didn't mean to upset you."

Chris shook his head in amazement. It was impossible to stay mad at his father. The man was all personality and charm. No wonder Anna had fallen for him, despite their polar opposite personalities.

"I'm afraid you're the one that's going to be upset," Chris informed his father "Anna is here."

"Your _mother_ is here in Palm Beach?"

Chris tried not to enjoy the look of shock and surprise on Benny's face, but it was difficult. "Listen to me, Pop. We are not going over to that table unless you promise to behave. Rita and Anna are over there, along with my Captain, his wife, and all of my friends."

"Do you mean to tell me you invited your mother to this affair, but not me?"

They had to be the two most selfish people in the world. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, Chris attempted to explain as best he could.

"Anna is in town because a friend of hers was found dead in a warehouse downtown two days ago and she's giving a statement to the police. Captain Lipschitz invited her along tonight. If I take you over there, I don't want any fireworks. Understood?"

Benny looked around the room, trying to spot his ex-wife. He was only half-listening to Chris as he tried to locate the great Anna Alexis, legendary movie star. Looking back at his son, he sensed that an answer was required for whatever Chris had been going on about.

He held out his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I'm only here to schmooze my client and say hello to my son. Don't worry about me and your mother. We're adults, we can handle ourselves."

For whatever reason, that didn't make Chris feel any better at all. "It's this way," he said to his father as he moved through the crowd. Rita was standing up, waiting for them when they arrived.

"Rita, sweetheart..." Benny called out to her and took her hands in his. "You are still the most gorgeous woman ever to pack a piece." Pulling her into a bear hug, he kissed her hello. "Have you been keeping an eye on Christopher for me?"

Rita backed up a step as he let go of her, slightly uncomfortable as always with his loud, exuberant personality.

"I've been keeping a close eye on him, Mr. Lorenzo. Somebody has to."

Benny laughed and admired the quiet beauty and intelligence of the woman in front of him, well aware that he made her uncomfortable. He was used to putting people off balance - it was easier to see what they were made of that way. He was also aware of the important role this woman played in his son's life. While he had never been the father that he should have been, he and Chris had fallen into the habit of calling each other at least every month or two. Over the course of the last three or four months, the lawyer in him had detected a subtle change in his son's relationship with his partner. Chris probably wasn't even aware of how often her name came up in every conversation, or the little catch in his voice every time it did.

His own story about visiting a client tonight was just a made-up excuse. According to his inside sources, Chris' previous relationship with Jillian Dupree hadn't stood a chance of surviving because of whatever ties were keeping him here in Palm Beach. At least that was the story that Jillian's mother had given him. Chris had been very tightlipped about the entire break up and had refused to discuss it over the phone. It was time, Benny decided, to check things out for himself. As soon as Chris mentioned the annual New Year's celebration during their phone call on Christmas day, he had begun making plans. Anna's presence tonight was a surprise, and an annoyance, that he wouldn't allow to deter him from his original goal.

"Please, call me Benny, Rita. "

Rita smiled back self-consciously, not quite sure how to respond.

Captain Lipschitz and his wife returned from the dance floor at just that moment, saving her from any further conversation.

"Cap," Chris called out to his boss, "You remember my father, Benjamin Lorenzo, don't you?" He turned to his father. "Pop, you've met my boss, Captain Harry Lipschitz, and this is his wife Fran." The two older men acknowledged each other, having met only briefly on Benny's last visit.

Harry went through the motions of greeting their surprise guest, but it was difficult to do so with any real warmth. How does one take the measure of a man you had grown to dislike in direct proportion to your affection for his son? Over the last few years, it had been so easy to forget that Chris even had parents, and it had been even easier to picture himself and Frannie in their place. He shook hands with Benjamin Lorenzo as he would any stranger, and found himself wishing the man would just disappear and let Chris get on with his life unscathed by his father's casual disinterest. Harry's eyes narrowed as the lawyer raised Frannie's hand to his lips for a kiss.

"So, Benny," Harry interjected quickly, "what brings you to Palm Beach at this time of year?"

Benny smiled broadly, sensing Harry's irritation, secretly pleased and a little jealous of his protective attitude toward Chris. He had been aware of Harry and Fran's presence in his son's life for quite some time now, and he wasn't here to step on any toes. There was always a price to be paid for putting your career ahead of your family, and the bill had come due long ago.

"I'm just here for the party," he confessed. "I've got a little business to do in town and I thought I'd stop in and say hello."

Harry tried to relax, but he kept a wary eye on Chris' father.

"Hey! Listen to that song, Harry," Benny said loudly above the music. "That's one of my favorite Sinatra tunes. You don't mind if I ask your wife to dance, do you?"

Frannie blushed at the attention and accepted the hand that Benny held out to her. "I think you're right about this song, Benny. You must have a great ear for music. Don't worry, Harry doesn't mind. Do you dear?"

Harry forced a smile as all eyes focused on him. When had all this first name nonsense started? He nodded, holding his tongue, lest a sarcastic comment slip out as he motioned for them to go ahead. His eyes watched the couple all the way to the dance floor until they disappeared into the crowd. It must be nice to just breeze into town and slip into fatherhood whenever the mood struck you. It must be nice to just pick up and dance with another man's gorgeous wife whenever your favorite song filled the air. It must be nice to...

"Cap?"

Harry kept the forced smile in place as he turned to look at the couple next to him.

"I'm sorry about this, Cap," Chris said, embarrassed. He kept his arm around his partner's waist as they stood watching the dance floor with the Captain.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, kid. Everybody is having a great time." Turning his back to the music Harry sat down at the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a small sip but set the glass back down quickly. "How about we go find ourselves a beer?" he said looking at Chris and Rita who had just sat down across from him. "I could use a real drink."

Chris stood up immediately. "Sounds like an excellent idea." He looked down at Rita who hadn't moved. "Coming with us?"

"No, I see Taylor and your mother heading back this way. I'm sure they'll keep me company."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked hurriedly, aware that he was rushing to get away before his mother arrived and he had to explain about Benny. Sighing in relief as she shook her head, he quickly followed Harry in the direction of the bar.

Once they got there, the line was several people deep all the way across so they had a few minutes to talk before ordering.

"You okay, Chris?" Harry asked, concerned with the young man's nervous behavior. The music had just changed to a more contemporary song and Chris was straining his neck, trying to see if his father had returned to their table. "They are grown-ups, you know," he reminded Chris. "I'm sure they'll behave themselves."

"Don't bet on it, Cap," Chris muttered. "As far as I know, they haven't been together in the same room for almost thirty years. That should tell you something."

"And yet, neither one has ever remarried?"

"No. I don't think either of them is cut out for it." Chris tore his eyes off of the room and looked over at Harry. "Why do you think that is? Look at you and Frannie. I can't picture either one of you without the other."

"Two beers." Harry moved up to the bar and placed their order before responding to Chris, fully aware of how important the answers were to him. He handed one of the glasses to Chris and they started walking slowly back to the table.

"Didn't you once tell me that they met and married very quickly?"

"Yeah, they supposedly fell passionately in love, ran off to get married, and I was born nine months later."

Harry paused and tapped Chris on the chest with his index finger. "There's your answer kid."

"What?" Chris joked, "Don't fall madly in love?" He kept a straight face as the Captain rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "Seriously, Cap, what are you getting at?"

"Let me give you an example," Harry said patiently. "When Frannie and I met there was an instant attraction, maybe even love at first sight, but we took things slowly. We went out for a while and really got to know each other."

"But you've said in the past that you knew from that very first day that you were going to marry Fran."

"I did know, but we took the time to become friends first before taking that final step. Romantic love grows and matures over the years, and if you aren't friends first, cracks in the foundation of your marriage can start to appear. I can't tell you how many couples I've seen this happen to."

"I understand what you're saying."

Harry held up his beer glass, "When you find a woman who can be your best friend, your lover, a mother to your children, and someone you can't imagine ever being without... you marry her, son before she gets away." His glass clinked against Chris', and he paused before taking a drink. "My guess is... you already know that." Their eyes met in mutual understanding.

"Amen," Chris whispered, placing the glass to his lips.

Both men stood off to the side of the ballroom, heads together, looking as if they were trying to solve the problems of the world instead of trying to understand one of the most important and elemental of all human relationships.

Rita watched them from across the room. Taylor had left for the dance floor with George, and she was left alone with Chris' mother for the first time that night. Her eyes had naturally gravitated to her partner.

"Chris seems pretty close to Captain Lipschitz," Anna commented quietly as she followed Rita's gaze.

Rita turned her attention to the beautiful woman sitting next to her. Anna's attendance tonight had created quite a stir with the locals, and she had spent most of her time dancing with city officials and low-level politicians.

"Harry and Fran are good people."

"Rita," Anna said hesitantly, trying to take advantage of their first chance to talk privately. "I'd like to ask you a personal question. Actually, I would have asked Chris, but I don't think he'd want to answer me right now."

Rita had a feeling she knew what was coming. "Sure, Anna."

"It's about you and Chris. A few years ago, you said that the two of you were best friends."

"We still are," Rita assured her without hesitation.

"I'm glad to hear that. It's obvious how much he cares about you. It's in his eyes. But I was wondering..."

"As I live and breathe...if it isn't Anna Alexis!"

Rita had been so intent on what Anna had been about to say, Benny's booming voice made her jump just as much as the woman next to her. To her surprise, she also witnessed all the color draining from Anna's face. She reached out to steady the other woman, afraid she was going to faint.

"Anna?" Rita leaned toward her with concern.

"I'm okay, Rita," Anna said in a breathless whisper.

Rita observed her closely, amazed at the transformation that took place before her eyes. The wild panic that had appeared with Anna's ex-husband's comments was soon covered over with a determined glint. It was as if a switch had been thrown and within seconds the actress was back at work.

Anna looked up and managed a gracious smile for Benny as he seated Fran at the table. She even managed to keep her smile when he took her hand and bent over it to place a dramatic kiss there.

Clearing her throat, her voice sounded properly haughty as she acknowledged him. "Benjamin, I had no idea you were going to be here."

"Obviously, my dear," he quipped, "or I'm sure you would have found a reason to absent yourself from the festivities."

"Do you actually think I've been avoiding you all these years, you arrogant fool?" Anna pulled her hand away and stood up to stare at him, face to face.

Frannie tore her eyes away from the couple to glance quickly at Rita. Their eyes met, and Rita raised her hands in a helpless gesture as she nodded toward Chris' parents. Frannie threw her a mischievous smile and they both turned back to the escalating argument.

"Listen, Angel, I'm only here..."

"Don't you dare call me that after all this time! You're still nothing better than an overgrown schoolboy."

Benny seemed pleased by her comments and his grin widened further. "I'll call you anything I want, Angel, even if you are acting like a self-absorbed, egocentric snob. And I must say, it's the best acting you've done in years."

Anna's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she pointed a finger at the infuriating man, about to speak when she heard her son's voice behind her.

"I see you two have been getting reacquainted." Chris stepped in between his parents and looked from his mother's flushed face to his father's smug one. It brought back memories of the last time they had all been together, almost thirty years prior. Some things were destined to never change.

"Chris?" Rita stood up and walked over to slip her hand into his. "You promised me the next dance."

"I think I'd better stay right here," he said reluctantly. He could see the storm brewing in his mother's eyes.

"No, no, no..." Benny interrupted, becoming suspiciously solicitous. "Your mother and I were just having a little chat. Right, Angel? You two kids head out to the dance floor."

Anna drew a deep breath and managed a small brittle smile. "Please, Christopher, go right ahead. We're fine."

Chris continued to vacillate, torn between his desire to dance with his partner, and the need to referee this new drama playing out between his parents. Harry settled the matter for him.

"I was just going to ask Anna to dance," he said cheerfully as he held out his arm for her. He ignored the frown on his wife's face. He'd do his best to explain it all later. "Anna?" he asked politely.

Once out on the dance floor, Chris tried to relax with Rita in his arms. She was pressed against him, with her face turned up to his, and he couldn't help but respond to the love and concern he found in those calm emerald eyes.

"Can you believe those two?" he asked her with a small laugh. "For years, I've wondered what would happen when and if they ever ran into each other again."

"I'm surprised it hasn't happened before now."

"So am I," he admitted quietly as the hand he had placed on her waist slid across her back, needing more contact than was allowable in this public place. "I'm beginning to think they've gone to great pains to prevent this from happening."

"You know, Chris," she murmured, lulled into a melodic trance by the female singer in the background. The beautiful clear voice was promising a forever kind of love. "I think there still might be a few sparks between those two."

Chris' steps faltered. He pulled Rita tighter against him as he thought over her words. His chin brushed her cheek as he whispered in her ear. "Impossible, Sam. They were ready to go at each other's throats, just like the old days."

"They were ready to go at each other all right." They moved in time to the music, gliding across the floor. "Chris!" He caught her by surprise when his mouth moved lower to nuzzle her neck. The nuzzle turned into a kiss, and he tasted the sensitive area behind her ear. It never occurred to her to push him away, and she automatically let one hand wander from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Her fingers played with his hair and gently massaged the tension she found there.

A few feet away, Anna's expression was a mixture of happiness and concern. "Well, I think Rita just answered my question for me."

"Which question would that be?" Harry asked as he guided his partner in the opposite direction of the young couple.

"Come on, Captain. I may not have been the best mother in the world, in fact, I may not have been much of a mother at all, but I can still recognize when my son is in love." Anna looked at Harry point blank and waited for him to say something.

Harry shook his head and laughed softly, unaware that his wife was watching him closely from the sidelines as he smiled at the famous actress in his arms. "The name is Harry, Anna, and there is nothing I can tell you. As far as I know, Chris and Rita are partners, nothing more." He ruined his credibility by winking at her outrageously and was rewarded by her throaty laughter, turning the heads of dancers around them.

Still smiling, Anna backed down graciously. "Okay, Harry. No more questions. I guess I'll have to be patient and hope my son confides in me someday."

"There is one favor I would like to ask of you," Harry said as the song came to an end. He paused on the dance floor, one hand on her arm, and leaned forward to speak privately. "I can appreciate the fact that you don't get along with Benny, but I'm asking you to not ruin this night for your son. Let him have these few hours surrounded by family and friends, and let him ring in the new year on a happy note."

Anna had the grace to look guilty and she nodded, lowering her head as Harry continued to speak.

"He's a good man, Anna, and he deserves some uncomplicated happiness. Let him and Rita have this night without you, Benny, and your problems becoming the focus."

Anna looked back up, her eyes shimmering with tears that would never be allowed to fall. "Do you and Frannie have any children of your own, Harry?"

"No," He admitted sadly, "as much as we wanted them, we were never gifted with any."

Anna looked around the room and spotted her son talking to Harry's wife. Chris had an arm around the diminutive woman and was laughing, deep in conversation with her and a few of the other young detectives from the homicide division.

Anna reached up and patted the hand resting on her arm. "I'm not so sure that's true, Harry." Clearing her throat delicately, she straightened her shoulders with a determined air. "If you'll excuse me, Captain, I think I need to go repair my make up."

Harry watched her walk away for a minute and then headed back to his wife. He was surprised to find her standing alone now and watching him with her arms crossed.

"Frannie, why aren't you sitting down at the table with the others?" He looked around quickly, trying to figure out why his sweet little wife was upset. "Is something wrong?"

"Is something wrong? IS SOMETHING WRONG? How can you even ask me that after the way you were carrying on with that...that...ACTRESS!" Outraged at the confused look on his face, she turned her back on Harry and stalked back over to the table.

Uh oh, this wasn't good. Harry quickly went over the last few minutes in his head, unsure of what he had done to set her off. Sure, Anna was a gorgeous woman, but she was Chris' mother, for Pete's sake. Maybe he needed to explain more of the situation with Chris and Rita to his wife, then she would understand. He walked over to the table slowly and sat down in the empty seat next to her. She was turned away from him, ignoring his presence as she talked to Diana and David.

His Frannie, he thought with a sigh. Always so jealous, as if he were some great catch that women would be willing to battle over. Smiling at the thought of his little spitfire fighting for her man, he leaned back in his chair with a big grin on his face.

"Good news, Harry," George said, dropping into the chair on the other side of the Captain. "Evans just got here, and he has news on the Weston case. Actually, he has news on the Fletcher case, but it pertains to us also."

"Did they find the secretary?"

"Not yet, but they did discover some property in Georgia that is still listed under her deceased father's name." George grinned widely.

"So, what are you so happy about?" Harry inquired curiously.

"The FBI has been called in, and they're setting up a surveillance of the house now. With any luck, this should be over in a day or two." He leaned back in his chair, and took a look around the room, trying to locate his date. Spotting Taylor talking to a few friends, he turned back to Harry. "I don't think we'll have any trouble tying the Brown woman to the Weston case. Her prints were all over the lead pipe."

"Glad to hear it. I would love to put this one behind us quickly." Changing gears, Harry commented, "Taylor looks really happy tonight, George. How is it going?" He knew how reluctant the Assistant DA had been to start dating again after his divorce.

A worried frown creased his brow for a moment, but George quickly shook it off. "I'm taking it slow, Harry. I don't want to make the same mistakes again, and I don't want to hurt Taylor."

"You wouldn't do that, George," Harry said confidently.

"Not intentionally..."

"One quick piece of advice, and then I won't say another word on the matter, I promise."

George laughed, knowing how unlikely that was. "Okay, Harry...shoot."

"Life is just too damn short." George was still staring at him, waiting for something more profound or poetic, but Harry was through. He gestured toward Taylor. "You're a good person. Taylor is a good person. I don't see a problem here."

"Is something wrong, George?" Frannie had turned around in her seat and noticed the worried look on his face.

"Everything is great, Fran," he offered quickly. "In fact, why don't we catch this next dance together?" George stood up and looked down at Harry. "If you don't mind?"

"Of course not, George. I think I'll go see if I can find Chris and Rita. I should pass on this news about the Weston case."

Frannie pouted as her husband walked away, but she was soon distracted by George as he led her to the dance floor. She immediately started asking the first of a hundred questions she had about his date with Taylor, and within minutes she had forgotten all about being mad at Harry.

The next few hours passed quickly as everyone mingled with friends and colleagues, many of whom they hadn't seen since the New Year's party the previous year. The orchestra played on, the dancing continued, the wine flowed and the midnight hour grew nearer. Pretty soon it was time for the waiters to start pouring the champagne in preparation for toasting the New Year.

Chris was talking shop with Evans from West Palm when he happened to look down at his watch. He was surprised to find that there were only fifteen minutes left until midnight.

"I didn't realize how late it is. I'll get with you in a couple of days," he promised, excusing himself as he shook hands with the other detective. "I've got to go find my partner."

Detective Evans smiled and nodded in understanding. "I don't blame you, Lorenzo. Tell Rita Happy New Year from me, too. I'll see both of you on Friday."

Chris searched the large room for a few minutes before locating her. Walking up from behind as she stood listening to two of their colleagues debate the use of excessive force during an arrest, he rested his fingertips lightly on the slim hips in front of him and whispered into her ear, "I think we can escape for a few minutes now, how about a walk outside?" He was rewarded with a grateful glance thrown over her shoulder.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Chris interrupted the debate, "I need to steal my partner away."

The arguing detectives halted their discussion in order to protest her departure.

"When are you going to learn to share, Lorenzo?" one of them called out. "I still can't figure out how someone as homely as you got so lucky in the partner department!"

Chris laughed but kept a firm grip on Rita's arm as he led her away. "Clean living, Perkins! You should try it sometime."

"If you ever decide to switch partners, Lance," the other detective called out to Rita, "I'm available. And I'm not just another pretty face like Lorenzo there."

"First I'm homely, and then I'm pretty," Chris grumbled. "Very confusing."

Rita laughed out loud and glanced back at the pair of teasing detectives, so handsomely dressed in their black tuxedos. Chris was forced to stop next to her and his eyes narrowed in surprise as she placed a satin-covered hand against his freshly shaven cheek. Her eyes locked with his as she called out to the men behind her, "I'm afraid I've grown accustomed to this face, boys, you'll have to find yourself another woman."

It was the response they had expected. There were plenty of smiles and more good-natured teasing as the couple walked away.

With a hand placed lightly on the small of her back, Chris guided Rita through the crowd toward one of the many French doors that led outside into the garden. As they left the noise and commotion of the party behind them, they stepped into a more private world of trees and hedges decorated with twinkling white tea lights. The soft strains of the orchestra could still be heard, creating a festive yet romantic atmosphere for any guests deciding to take a stroll. Because it was so close to midnight now, the garden was deserted.

Arm in arm, the couple walked in silence, enjoying their break from the excitement inside. The hotel sat on prime Palm Beach real estate with its own stretch of coastline. In fact, only a cement walkway separated the lush green of the garden from the sand and surf, mother nature's unseen accompaniment to the music inside.

Along the outer edges of the garden, there was a small grouping of trees. Nestled under the trees, a small ornate white iron bench had been placed facing the ocean. The way it was situated, off to one side and away from the hotel, made the little alcove private and secluded at this late hour. Chris spotted it at about the same time he felt Rita shiver. Removing his jacket, he placed it around her bare shoulders and led her over to the bench.

"Why don't we sit for a few minutes," Chris suggested as he pulled a white linen handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped off the seat.

She watched him with a sparkle in her eyes. The evening had really turned into something magical from the moment they had entered the ballroom together. Whether it was their decision to stop hiding their relationship or the fact that they were surrounded by so many friends as they welcomed in the new year, there was definitely a feeling of change in the air. Keeping Chris' jacket close around her, she sat down and waited for him to join her. His next move caught her completely off guard.

"Chris?" she questioned him as he carefully placed the handkerchief onto the ground in front of the bench.

"Be patient with me, Sam," he requested in a distracted voice, "I can honestly say I have never done this before in my life." He went down on one knee as he spoke. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were clear and calm.

Rita was confused for a second and about to question him again when something in his expression made her pause. Her eyes grew wide with the sudden realization of what he was about to do.

He took her left hand in his and held it gently. She blinked to hold back tears which had suddenly appeared unbidden. Love, fear, insecurity, trust... every emotion possible coursed through her in those first few seconds after he knelt down.

Her gaze met his. His eyes were filled with love and tenderness.

She silently willed her body to keep functioning as her mind tried to handle the shock. Just keep breathing... in and out... in and out...

Chris caught the brief look of panic in Rita's expression, but his confidence didn't waver. This was one of the most important nights, if not the most important night, of his life and he had been preparing for it for weeks. Any possible excuse she could bring up, he had an argument to counter. Their conversation, earlier in the evening, about being more open regarding their relationship, fell right into his plans. It was time. "You know that I love you," he managed to finally say. Rita nodded slightly, giving him the courage to continue. "And you know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She sat there unable to do anything other than nod softly in acknowledgment of his words. They had come so far together, this next step, this next move towards a future together, was inevitable as long as they were brave enough and wise enough to take it. Her eyes remained locked with his.

Chris placed a small jeweler's box in her hand. She stared down at it. The detective in her wanted to know where it had come from, when had he found the time to go get whatever was inside and why hadn't he mentioned it to her, but the woman inside wanted her to freeze this moment in time and enjoy its perfection for a lifetime.

The velvet box remained cradled in her hands until Chris touched her chin and tilted her head up so she could once again look into his eyes.

"Open it," he requested softly and dropped his hands to rest in her lap.

Rita opened the hinged box slowly. A quiet gasp escaped as she stared at the beautiful square cut emerald ring that rested within. It wasn't huge and it wasn't flashy. It was perfect. A small diamond on either side of the gem added to its delicate design. He knew her so well.

Deciding that she needed a little help, Chris removed the ring from the box and held it up between his left thumb and forefinger. "Rita," he drew her attention away from the ring. His expression held nothing back, letting all the love, trust and faith that flowed between them reflect in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"

….

Everyone was standing now, gravitating toward the center of the dance floor as the midnight hour came upon them.

"TEN... NINE... EIGHT... SEVEN...

"Where did Chris and Rita go?" Frannie hollered, holding on to her husband's hand.

"I don't know." Harry tried to answer his wife above the loud music and the crowd's chanting.

"SIX... FIVE... FOUR..."

"I think they went outside to get some air!" George shouted, keeping his arm securely around Taylor. He looked down as she reached up and rested a hand gently on his chest. The look they shared was hesitant and shy, but also full of hope and longing.

Frannie searched the room, frantically. The couple in question was nowhere in sight. She looked back at her husband just in time to catch the loving glow in his eyes. They counted down the final seconds together.

"THREE... TWO... ONE... HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The room exploded into loud cheers as balloons and confetti were released from nets attached to the ceiling, raining down on the partygoers below. Couples kissed and embraced before turning to their neighbors for more of the same.

"Look outside!" Frannie pointed toward the garden doors. "Fireworks! They're beautiful. Let's get closer."

Frannie led the small party of friends as they joined others closer to the glass doors. Pushing their way through they were able to get a good look at the bursts of color lighting up the black sky.

….

Rita opened her mouth to speak but hesitated at the sound of loud cheering from the ballroom. She looked up as fireworks exploded above them. The night sky lit up with cascades of green, white, and red starbursts, flashing brightly and raining down toward the earth. It was a wondrous moment in time, created in partnership with man and nature. Could it be a sign? It didn't matter. She didn't need a sign because she already knew that there was only one answer possible. She looked back at Chris, who was staring intently at her, and a tiny smile escaped. He was her best friend, her biggest supporter, a man she could entrust with her heart, and right now he looked ready to do battle, assuming that her slight hesitation meant that she might be unsure of her response.

She set him straight immediately.

"I would be honored."

Chris didn't dare move, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for all the rational arguments about why they should think twice about this.

Her tiny smile widened into a grin, her eyes softening in sympathy.

"I said yes."

"Yes?" He echoed the one word, trying to absorb the implications. "Just like that? Yes?"

"Isn't that the answer you wanted..."

Rita was barely able to get the last word out of her mouth as Chris stood and pulled her up to him. The jacket fell from her shoulders, but neither one noticed as he helped her remove her glove. Somewhere in the back of her mind, as he slipped the ring onto her finger and raised it to his lips, she noted that both of their hands were a little unsteady.

"I will love you forever," he promised, his lips brushing over her knuckles as he spoke. The kiss he placed there was filled with reverence as he closed his eyes. Opening them again, he gave her no warning before capturing her mouth with his own.

This kiss was different from any kiss that had come before it. It held not only the promises of passion fulfilled but also the strength of their commitment to each other and a belief in their dreams for a future together.

When they finally broke apart, Rita rested her head in the crook of Chris' neck. With one hand placed over his heart, she absorbed the steady comforting rhythm.

….

"Hesch?"

"Oh, so you are talking to me again? I wasn't sure."

Frannie ignored her husband's teasing and maneuvered her way closer to the glass doors. "Isn't that Chris and Rita out in the garden?"

Harry leaned closer to the glass and studied the couple standing amongst the trees. Despite the thousands of small white lights illuminating the walkways, the embracing couple was at least fifty feet away, and it was impossible for him to make out their faces.

"What do you think is going on out there?" Frannie asked, nudging him in the side.

He turned to look down at his curious wife, once again thinking how adorable she was. Her eyes gleamed as brightly as her smile. She continued to find enjoyment in other people's happiness, especially the young detectives she had secretly adopted as children of her heart so many years ago. This special woman had taught him so much with her unselfish gifts of love and joy to others. Without her, he would have turned hard and cynical decades ago. He dropped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer before answering.

"I can't tell from here, sweetheart, but whoever they are, I think they're making out like a couple of teenagers."

"Hesch!" she scolded with a smile. "I'm not kidding. Chris is up to something tonight; I can sense it."

"I think you sense his shock about seeing both of his parents in the same room."

"Maybe," Frannie hedged, convinced that something else was going on. "Uh, oh, they're coming back this way! Turn around so they don't know we were watching."

Harry dutifully turned back to face the ballroom, chuckling to himself as his nervous wife flitted about at his side. He started to feel a little guilty about not letting her in on his suspicions regarding the young couple.

"Frannie?" he said hesitantly, turning her around so she faced him. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now."

"Shhhh... Hesch! Here they come." Frannie held a finger to her lips before dismissing her husband and turning to greet Chris and Rita as they came in from outside. "You missed the countdown!" she called out and stepped forward to kiss them both. "Happy New Year!"

Rita smiled radiantly and held Frannie tight for a second. "Happy New Year, Fran." Her eyes were shiny, pooling with untold emotions as she turned to the Captain. "Cap?" She went right into his open arms, hugging him fiercely in return. It was the first milestone in her life that had taken place surrounded by her family of friends. Nothing in her previous experiences had prepared her for this, and it was a memory that would stay with her forever.

The Captain had just let go of Rita when Chris turned to him and extended a hand. Harry grinned as he took his hand, but pulled the young man into an affectionate hug instead. Before letting him go, he whispered into Chris' ear, "I'm assuming that the two of you will be in my office to tell me something on Monday."

Chris leaned back and looked at Harry in surprise. The man must be psychic, he decided, trying to dismiss the wave of worrisome thoughts that threatened to dampen his mood. The Captain clapped a hand on his shoulder, startling him. Chris looked into the eyes of his mentor and saw only unspoken congratulations and happiness. Cap had often said that life was full of shifting priorities as one grew older, and the quality of a man was measured in how well he handled those changes and grew stronger from the experience. Chris nodded at the Captain, his boyish smile back in place where it belonged. He glanced back over at Rita. She was clutching her gloves in one hand and listening attentively to whatever Frannie was saying when she noticed him staring. He silently mouthed three little words which she acknowledged with a shy dip of her head and a widening of her smile. Everything would work out fine, he decided.

As Chris and Rita left to rejoin their other friends at the table, Harry looked down at his beaming wife. "Figure it out yet?" he asked her, grinning like a fool, but unable to stop himself.

A smiling Frannie looked back up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, Hesch?" she asked, not knowing he had any clue about how close Chris and Rita really were. She tested the waters to see what kind of reaction he would have. "They looked cute together, didn't they?"

He shook his head in amazement. She was still trying to protect those two, bless her heart. He plunged ahead anyway.

"Did you notice Rita's left hand?" he asked innocently.

"No, did she get hurt?" Frannie was all concern now, straining to catch a glimpse of Rita as she crossed the room. She hadn't noticed any bandages.

"Her LEFT hand, Frannie?" he teased, still not willing to come right out and tell her. He was enjoying this too much.

"Her left... WHAT? Harry!" Throwing her arms up in the air, his wife was off like a shot, crossing the room at record speed before Harry had a chance to utter another word. He laughed out loud and murmured a silent apology to the couple in question as he followed her trail.

….

Rita sighed contentedly and leaned back against her fiancé as they rode the elevator up to their floor. The evening still seemed like a dream and she couldn't stop smiling. It hadn't taken long for everyone at the table to notice the ring on her finger, and it didn't look like they were going to have to worry about hiding their relationship from their friends anymore because just about everyone had suspected what they were up to anyway.

It was as if their engagement had been given a special blessing by having so many of the important people in their lives right there with them. Could it be anything but divine fate that had brought Chris' parents together for him? Surprisingly, those two had managed to refrain from verbally attacking each other for the rest of the evening. By the time the party broke up, they were actually seen huddled together in a quiet corner, talking calmly. That alone should convince any skeptics of the existence of a higher being.

"Falling asleep?" Chris asked quietly.

"Hmmm? No, just enjoying the peace and quiet," she murmured.

The short elevator ride ended, and they left the privacy of the car to walk down the hallway to their room. Stopping in front of their door, Chris searched his pockets for the key, while Rita turned to face him.

"So," she teased, "do you feel any different?"

Her soft mouth was only an inch from his, and he had to force himself to look up into her eyes as he asked, "What do you mean?"

Rita licked her lips, drawing his attention down again, "You're an engaged man now. Do you feel trapped, nauseous, claustrophobic?"

Chris silenced her the best way he knew how. He groaned into her mouth as her hands found their way under his jacket and wound themselves around his waist. Her mouth opened willingly under his assault, and he wasted no time in tasting her fully. Voices could be heard off in the distance, but they didn't register until he felt Rita tense up.

"What's wrong?" He grew worried as her grip tightened around him. If she didn't let up, he was going to have trouble breathing soon.

"Don't turn around!" she whispered harshly.

"What?" he said, automatically trying to turn his head. She stopped him by framing his face with her hands and kissing him hard on the lips. This kiss was different, frantic and quick, not like the one they had been sharing before they were interrupted. "Rita..." he mumbled against her mouth. The sounds down the hall became louder, and he pulled her hands away so he could lean back.

"Don't look," she warned.

Of course, this meant that he had to turn immediately and do just that.

"Oh, GEEZ!"

"I warned you," she sighed, dropping her hands to her side.

"Ugh! What in the world are they doing now?"

"Well, if I have to explain it to you, I'll try my best, but I think we should step inside our room first."

"Aspirin," he muttered, his fingers pressing against his temples, "I need an aspirin. Forget that, I need the entire bottle. This whole week has been too much," he complained, opening their door and letting Rita walk ahead of him into the room. As he turned to close the door, he stuck his head out one last time and glanced at the couple making all the noise at the end of the hall. Shaking his head, he watched his mother and father groping each other as they struggled to get the keycard in the door. They looked like a couple of teenagers in the back seat of Chevy. This was so far out of the realm of his reality, it bordered on the bizarre.

The couple disappeared into their room just as he felt a hand on his shoulder. As he turned to look at the delicate white fingers resting on his black tuxedo jacket, a brilliant green emerald twinkled under the overhead light, and all worries about his parents disappeared. They had designed their own lives, and it was his responsibility to do the same for himself. He turned around and let the door close behind him, reaching back to lock it without looking.

"Feeling any different?" he inquired of the beauty before him, walking forward slowly as she retreated.

"Yes," she responded happily, laughing at his predatory glare.

"Feeling trapped?" he asked with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

"Definitely," she whispered, stopping as the back of her legs ran into the mattress, "but I'm not worried."

Suddenly serious, Chris held up a hand to her cheek and let the back of his knuckles brush across her soft skin. "We took a big step today, Sam."

She smiled, letting her happiness shine through. "I know," she said solemnly, "It feels right."

"Yeah." His voice was so soft, it floated between them.

"Scared?" she asked quietly.

"A little."

"Same here."

"But I wouldn't change a thing," he swore. One hand wove itself into her hair and cupped the back of her neck as he leaned forward to kiss her tenderly. Pulling away a few minutes later, he scrunched up his face.

"Well, there is one thing I would change."

Rita looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Whatever is going on down the hall," he said with a grimace. "Nobody should see their parents like that. This could damage my psyche."

"Try not to think about it," she suggested, reaching over to switch off the bedside light.

Chris smiled into the darkness, letting his hands rest on either side of her waist. "Maybe I need a distraction. Any ideas?"

"Hmmm...I'm thinking of a few right now." Rita pushed the tuxedo jacket off of his shoulders and tossed it onto the chair by the bed.

"Care to share?" Grinning, he remained patient as she took off his tie, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Presenting her with one wrist at a time, he made it easy for her to remove his cufflinks, enjoying her gentle, but confident touch.

"In good time," she assured him with a secretive smile. "Tell me, Sam," she asked as she helped him shrug out of his shirt, "Did you make a New Year's resolution this year?"

Chris stopped her as she reached for his belt, and turned her around so he could unhook the back of her dress. "My turn," he teased. Rita lifted the hair off of her shoulders and he quickly unfastened the two hooks behind her neck.

"To answer your question," he murmured before kissing the graceful curve of her shoulder, "No, I had a lot on my mind this week and I forgot all about making a resolution." Resting his chin on the spot where his lips had just been, he asked curiously, "Did you?"

A contented smile formed as his breath fanned her cheeks and his arms held her secure. "Yes, I made a very important one. I have decided to try and treat each new day as the gift that it is."

"Ah-ha," his sultry whisper tickled, "now that is a great resolution."

"It's a resolution of the heart, Chris."

"I know that, " he said as she turned abruptly in his arms. "Happy New Year, Rita. I've never looked forward to the future as much as I do now."

The love of his life nodded in agreement. "Let's start it off right," she suggested, releasing the bodice of her dress and letting it fall to the floor. "Remember that distraction I promised you?"

Before there was time to respond, he found himself following her down to the bed and being surrounded by silken clad legs and loving arms.

As he settled on top of her, Chris' eyes darkened with passion and he couldn't help asking, "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Yes," she assured him, "but feel free to mention it again."

"I love you, Rita."

Clear green eyes stared lovingly into blue.

"I love you, Chris."

THE END

Classic Moments 1998


End file.
